


Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

by AidanChase



Series: Harry Potter: Everyone Lives AU [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Rewrite, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:33:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3278630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidanChase/pseuds/AidanChase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn’t exactly the worst birthday ever. Harry was used to birthdays being spent with his parents, and with Sirius, and with Uncle Remus. He was used to his birthdays being quiet affairs, but this year he’d wanted a real birthday party. Not necessarily a big grand event, like for his eleventh birthday. Maybe just Ron and Hermione, or maybe he could invite all the boys in his dormitory too, and then there was his friends on the Quidditch team, and of course Susan and Hannah, and Padma and Lavender.</p><p>----</p><p>How different would the world of Harry Potter be if James and Lily had lived?</p><p>
  <i>Ships not listed because I'm unsure if there will be deviations from canon in that respect. Characters will be added as they appear.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Worst Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Chamber of Secrets is finally happening. I'm excited. Prepare for more Draco character development (and Remus being an amazing surrogate father), prepare for more Ginny development, and prepare for lots and lots and lots of letters.

It wasn’t exactly the worst birthday ever. Harry was used to spending his birthdays with his parents, and with Sirius and Uncle Remus. He was used to his birthdays being quiet affairs, but this year he’d wanted a real birthday party. Not necessarily a big grand event, like for his eleventh birthday. Maybe just Ron and Hermione, or maybe he could invite all the boys in his dormitory too, and then there were his friends on the Quidditch team, and of course Susan and Hannah, and Pavarti and Lavender. That only brought the guest list up to fifteen.

His parents promised they would try to work something out, but they were very intent on visiting Lily’s sister, and the summer plans had to revolve around that. A big party might not be an option.

It was about a week before his birthday when Harry overheard one of the quiet kitchen arguments his parents so often had, and for once, it wasn’t about him. At least, not directly.

“I know this is important to you,” James hissed, “but on his birthday?”

“We can’t go any later or we won’t have time to get his school supplies,” Lily said as she sipped on her tea. “If you’d let me get a phone, we wouldn’t have been this pressed for time. Muggle post is so slow--”

“I told you a telephone won’t work in this house. It’s too old. Too much magic.”

“Arthur said he could figure something out.”

“Arthur couldn’t wire a Muggle wireless,” James said exasperatedly. “The last thing I want is him trying to install an electrical current in the house. Maybe if we ask Sirius--”

“No.”

Harry thought the phone argument comical. His parents occasionally went back and forth over which Muggle items they could incorporate into the home. It wasn’t that James was opposed to Muggle technology, but he was very worried about how Muggle technology operated alongside magic. Lily thought he was worried over nothing.

Harry found the argument much less humorous when his parents came to him that night and said, “We’re going to visit your Mum’s sister on your birthday.”

“Where do they live?”

“In Surrey,” Lily answered.

“Isn’t Mum’s family Muggles?”

“Yep,” James said with a smile. “It’ll be an adventure, won’t it?”

It was not any sort of adventure Harry wanted to have. They arrived at the Dursley’s house five minutes after seven on July 31. They were late because Lily had spent an extra five minutes fussing over everyone’s clothing, making sure they could pass for Muggles.

A very tall, thin woman answered the door. She had a face that looked like she’d eaten too many poor-tasting Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“Petunia, it’s so good to see you,” Lily said with a wide smile, and hugged the woman. The woman was surprised by the display of affection, and awkwardly patted Lily on the back.

“How do you do, Aunt Petunia?” Harry said, exactly as his mother had told him to, and shook Aunt Petunia’s hand.

She smiled warily at him, then turned that wary smile to his father. “James."

“Petunia,” he answered, with a wary smile of his own.

Aunt Petunia led them into the living room, where a very large man sat on the couch. He had a thick mustache and he was beginning to go bald. Next to him was a boy, who had to be about Harry’s age, but where Harry had been sprouting upwards--nearly to his mother’s shoulder, now--this boy seemed to have sprouted sideways. He looked like a miniature version of his father, but his face was stuffed with as many ear-wax flavored candies as his mother.

The large man stood when they entered, and Lily shook his hand. Harry reached out his hand and said, “How do you do, Uncle Vernon?” just as his mother had told him to.

Uncle Vernon looked pleased with this introduction, and shook Harry’s hand. It was a very firm handshake.

Vernon and James acknowledged each other with brief eye contact, a briefer nod, and quickly sat down.

Lily had not given Harry explicit instructions about greeting his cousin, so after his mother hugged him and said, “You must be Dudley! You look so much like your mum,” (which Harry thought to be a rather rude lie) Harry went over and said, “Hi, I’m Harry.”

Dudley nodded and said, “Hi. I’m Dudley.”

Aunt Petunia served what looked like leftovers of another night’s pudding, and they all sat down. The Dursleys on one couch, and the Potters on the other. It was a rather awkward silence for a moment before Lily asked how Vernon’s business had been going. “I can’t quite remember the details. You said you work with--?”

“Drills,” Uncle Vernon said. But then he didn’t proceed to answer her question. He was still looking at James suspiciously.

“It’s going quite well,” Aunt Petunia filled in. “Just last night he closed a big sale, didn’t you, dear?”

Harry, seated next to his father, noticed James quickly suck in a near-laugh, but he didn’t think anyone else noticed.

“Yes, big sale,” Vernon echoed. “Business closed over a dinner and dessert is the best, I always say.”

“Tell them the joke about the Japanese golfer, Dad,” Dudley said brightly.

“Oh, maybe not--” both Lily and Petunia started.

James, however, looked quite amused. “I didn’t know there were such a thing as Japanese gophers.”

Vernon frowned at him, and Lily leaned over Harry to whisper something in James’s ear.

“Ah,” James said, but his amused smile didn’t waver. “Can’t say I’ve ever played uh, golf, or even been to Japan,” and he laughed.

Petunia laughed graciously, but Vernon did not. This was followed by another uncomfortable silence. 

“Dudley,” Petunia said, “Why don’t you and Harry go upstairs and you can show him your toy room.”

Dudley seemed quite excited by this idea and set down his empty plate. Harry had barely touched his dessert, and when he set it down, Dudley said, “Are you going to finish that?”

“Er, no.”

Dudley ate it in two bites before bounding up the stairs, and Harry followed him.

Toys weren’t really a thing Harry had a lot of growing up. It wasn’t for lack of money, just lack of interest. His first present had been a Quidditch broom, and it had been his favorite thing from then on. He’d been given a playset or two, and Sirius had gotten him a toy race car set one Christmas. He’d been entertained for a few hours, but playing with toy race cars wasn’t very interesting when you could go outside and fly on a broom.

So he found Dudley’s room, full of toy sets (some broken, some brand new), game systems, and a television to be on one hand impressive--because he had never seen so many--and on the other hand boring, because he had very little interest in the toys.

Dudley showed Harry a race car track about three times the size Sirius had gotten him. He was as excited about it as Harry might’ve been about a new broom. And the way he talked about the make of the car sounded like the way Harry talked about new broom designs.

“How fast does it go?” Harry asked.

“350 kilometers per hour,” Dudley beamed, and that impressed Harry.

“Well, let’s give it a go, then.”

They sat down with the race cars--Dudley took the one he had just been bragging about, and gave Harry the other one.

Harry realized, once they started the remote controls--which, he had to admit, were a fascinating sort of magic on their own--that Dudley had meant the life-sized car went 350 kilometers per hour. These toys were slower than a Snitch.

They raced a couple laps. Dudley won every time, and Harry wasn’t sure if his car was actually slower, or if Dudley cheated each time. Harry didn’t particularly care.

“Do you play video games?” Dudley asked after winning a fifth time.

“What’s that?” Harry asked.

Dudley turned on the television set

“Oh, we don’t have a television.”

“You don’t have a television?” Dudley looked like his eyes were going to fall out of his head. “If you don’t have a television, how do you watch your programs?”

“Watch what?”

But Dudley was spared explaining when a strange creature suddenly climbed in through the window and fell to the floor.


	2. Dobby's warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Dudley are met with a strange surprise and it's _not_ Muggle approved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks goes to tumblr user ageofzero for helping me out hardcore with this chapter. I really struggled with Dudley and Dobby and without them this chapter would've been hella rough. They also helped me set up a lot of the little things for the rest of the book that I was wrestling with, so seriously, like, if you have a tumblr, go leave them a nice ask or something.

Harry and Dudley stared at the strange creature that appeared in the middle of Dudley’s toy room. It wasn’t very large, but its ears were over-sized for its tiny body, and its large green eyes were the size of Neville’s Remembrall. It had a long thin nose, and around its frail, tiny body, was dressed in what looked like an old pillowcase, except with armholes.

“What is it?” Dudley whispered to Harry.

“I think it’s a house-elf,” Harry whispered back, but he had never seen one in person before.

“What’s a house-elf?”

“Er--Hello,” Harry said to the possible house-elf. “I’m Harry Potter. This is my cousin Dudley.”

The possible house-elf bowed low to the ground. “It is an honor to meet Harry Potter and his family!” Its voice was high and squeaky, like Harry imagined the way a cat might sound if it could talk.

“Thanks,” but Harry frowned, rather puzzled. “Who are you?”

“Dobby, sir. Dobby the house-elf.”

“Um, you don’t need to call me ‘sir’--Just Harry is fine.”

Dobby sucked in a deep breath and his eyes began to glisten with water works. Then the breath and the water works came out in a sudden cry of, “Never, ever--” The house-elf’s wailing was loud and high-pitched. Harry was sure every Muggle on the block must be able to hear him. Dudley covered his ears and Harry shushed Dobby.

“Are you boys alright?” Aunt Petunia called upstairs.

“Fine,” Harry shouted back.

Dudley stared at him. “Fine? This thing is--is-”

Lily had given Harry a stern warning about using magic in front of Dudley, and his Aunt and Uncle, and James gave him a big lecture about the Statute of Secrecy, and how Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were the sort who might be offended by magic, so Harry was not, under any circumstances, about to let his Aunt, Uncle, or parents find out there was a house-elf upstairs.

“It’s not going to hurt us,” Harry said. “Right, Dobby?”

“Dobby would never,” Dobby wailed, “hurt Harry Potter or his family!”

Harry shushed Dobby again. “Keep it down. This is a Muggle house. You shouldn’t be here.”

“But Dobby had to come,” Dobby said, and wrung his hands in the odd pillowcase hanging from his shoulders. “Dobby had to see Harry Potter.”

“Well, alright, come to my house for tea tomorrow.”

This only set Dobby off again and Harry desperately tried to quiet him. “I didn’t mean to offend--”

“Offend Dobby? Dobby has never been asked to tea--treated like an equal--by a wizard--”

Harry shushed Dobby and desperately tried to quiet him. He looked to Dudley for help, but Dudley was only gaping at them both.

“You can’t have met too many decent wizards,” Harry said, but this made Dobby worse.

Dobby looked for a moment like he might agree with Harry, but then he suddenly said, “Bad Dobby--” and he picked up a toy cricket bat, rather dusty and hit himself in the head. “--Bad Dobby!”

“Stop it,” Harry hissed.

They heard footsteps on the stairs.

Harry quickly threw Dobby into Dudley's toy box and closed the lid.

“What’s going on up here?” Aunt Petunia said, and stuck her head through the door.

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly.

“Watching telly,” Dudley said, but his voice was rather shaky.

“Oh,” Petunia said. “How nice.” And she went back downstairs.

Harry opened the toy box up and Dudley said, “Did that thing call you a wizard?”

“Er--” Harry didn’t know how to explain himself.

“Harry Potter is the greatest wizard that ever lived,” Dobby said as he climbed out of the toy box.

“I’m really not,” Harry said.

“Harry Potter is humble and modest,” Dobby said with adoring eyes. “Harry Potter speaks not of his twice triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“Well, that was just--that isn’t really me, I just--”

“What’s it mean by that?” Dudley asked Harry.

Harry tried very hard to think about how to explain it all to a Muggle and still protect the Statute of Secrecy. “Did you see the James Bond movie?” Sirius had taken him, and made him promise not to tell Lily. It had been more violent than either expected. Harry hadn't really minded, but he had understood why they shouldn't tell his Mum about it. And judging by the titles of movies Dudley had on his shelf, it was a safe bet that Dudley knew about James Bond.

“Yes.”

“You know in the beginning, how they arrest the drugs guy, and he comes back?”

“Yes.”

“It’s like that.”

“You’re a drug dealer?”

“No--I’m James Bond. You-Know-Who is the drug dealer.”

“I don’t know who.”

“Voldemort.”

Dobby gasped. “So brave--to say his name--”

Harry shushed Dobby, and Dudley still looked very confused. “I’m James Bond, there’s a bad guy who is the drug dealer, and when I was a baby, something happened and I almost killed him. He came back to get revenge last summer, and I beat him again.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, exactly. It’s all very accidental.”

“Harry Potter is valiant, and bold!” Dobby protested. “He has braved so many dangers. But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him…. Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts.”

Harry frowned at Dobby. “Of course I’m going back.”

“What’s Hogwarts?” Dudley asked.

“My school,” Harry said.

“That’s an ugly school name.”

Harry didn’t a chance to defend Hogwarts, because Dobby interrupted. “Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good to lose,” Dobby said. “If Harry goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger.”

“Is it about You-Know-Who?” Harry asked.

Dobby shook his head.

“Well, then, it should be fine. You know about Dumbledore, right?”

“I don’t know who Dumbledore is,” Dudley said.

“Um--He’s like Agent M.”

“Oh.” Dudley nodded. This he could understand.

Dobby’s version was the one Harry knew. “Albus Dumbledore is the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby as heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength--”

“See, there you go. I’ll be perfectly safe at Hogwarts.”

“--But sir,” Dobby dropped his voice to a whisper, “there are powers Dumbledore doesn’t… powers no decent wizard….”

But before Dobby could finish, he began bashing his head into the wall.

“I’ll just ask them to turn the television down,” Aunt Petunia’s voice rang on the steps.

Dudley and Harry both grabbed Dobby and put him in the toy box.

She opened the door and glanced at each of the boys. They were obviously guilty of something.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” she asked.

“Yes.” They both answered.

She waited another moment to determine if they were lying. She glanced at the television set, then back at the boys. Finally she went back downstairs.

Dudley opened the toy box.

Dobby climbed out and repeated his warning. “Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts.”

Harry Potter shook his head. “Honestly, what could be worse than You-Know-Who?”

Dudley stared at Harry with a puzzled expression. “What sort of school would you want to go back to?” But Harry ignored this because he was not sure how to say it was a magic school without saying it was magic. He could say it was like MI6 training, but even that didn't really explain why Hogwarts was so wonderful.

Dobby opened his mouth, but then quickly closed it and banged the lid of the toy box over his head. “Bad Dobby, Bad!” he repeated, until Harry and Dudley pulled him out of it.

“It doesn’t seem very bright,” Dudley said to Harry.

“Dobby, why do you keep hitting yourself?” Harry didn’t think it fair of Dudley to judge without determining a reason.

“Dobby must punish himself, for thinking ill of Dobby’s family.”

Harry didn’t know what to say about that. He didn’t know much about house-elves, but he did know they were bound to serve a particular family. So there was a family, out there, that Dobby belonged to, that was plotting something worse than You-Know-Who. That was a bit unsettling, but he didn’t see how anything dangerous could happen at Hogwarts. At least, nothing more dangerous than You-Know-Who attaching their soul to one of his professor’s and trying to steal the Elixir of Life.

“Dobby, I appreciate the warning, but I have to go back to Hogwarts. I’ll be careful, really.”

“Harry Potter must promise not to go back.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice.”

And all the toys in Dudley’s room slowly lifted off the ground. The race cars, the toy soldiers, the television, the game systems, everything.

“Dobby, don’t--” Harry said.

“Harry Potter must promise.”

“Put them down!” Dudley said. “I’m sorry I called you stupid!”

“Harry Potter must promise not to go back to Hogwarts!”

“No,” Harry said fiercely.

Dobby snapped his fingers and everything after that happened very quickly.

Dudley’s toys came crashing down. Dobby vanished. Dudley started screaming. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. The door burst open and Petunia, Vernon, James, and Lily all came in to see what had happened.

Harry tried to explain, but Dudley was still screaming, and Aunt Petunia was trying to quiet him. Uncle Vernon shouted at them to get out. Lily made apologies, tightened her hand around Harry’s arm, and they left.

When they were out on the street, Harry said, “I didn’t do it.”

Lily and James exchanged a glance, and Lily said, “You’re twelve now, Harry. I know magic can be hard to control when you get upset, but you need to learn.”

“I didn’t do it."

By now they had reached the dark corner of the street and Lily Side-Apparated him home. There was an owl waiting on their front porch with an envelope in it’s beak.

Lily took the letter and read it quickly. She opened the front door for Harry and said, “Go get ready for bed.”

“But--”

“Go.”

Harry went upstairs, pounding his feet the whole way. It wasn’t fair. It hadn’t been his fault and he didn’t understand why they were so upset.

He brushed his teeth and put his pajamas on, but he didn’t get into bed. He sat at his desk and turned his wand over in his hands. It hadn’t been his fault, and his parents weren’t listening and it wasn’t fair. It wasn't often he disagreed with them, and he didn't know how to express his frustration. This really was the worst birthday ever.

There was a gentle knock at his door and his father came in.

“Alright, Harry?” he said with a smile.

“I didn’t do it,” Harry said.

“Okay, okay.” James sat down on Harry’s bed and motioned for Harry to join him. “Tell me what happened.”

So Harry did. He told him about Dobby, and the warning, and the hover charm, and Dobby vanishing. “I swear I didn’t cast that spell, no matter what the letter said.”

“The Trace is a bit tricky,” James said with a small smile. “Especially when you’re in the presence of Muggles. And house-elves are tricky things on their own. I believe you. Just, your mother’s a bit upset. She wanted tonight to go well, but--ah, well.”

Harry sat quietly on his bed, leaning against his father. He understood why his mother was upset he just didn’t want her to be upset at him.

“Dad--why don’t we have house-elves?” he asked.

James laughed. “We did have house-elves. Before you were born.”

“Really?”

“Your grandmother set them free before she died.

“Why?”

“She believed in equality for all magical and non-magical Beings”

“I thought house-elves had to serve.”

“It’s a magically binding contract, until the wizard family they belong to gives them an article of clothing. Honestly, lots of house-elves would be loathe to leave their house. Ours stayed on even after your grandmother let them go. They took care of the house until your mum and I went into hiding during the war.”

“This house-elf didn’t seem to like his family very much.”

“Not all families believe in equal treatment for magical Beasts and Beings.”

“But we do.”

“Yes, and the Tonks, and the Weasleys, and the Bones family. And Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.”

“But not Sirius’s family?” Harry said.

James shook his head. “No, they didn’t think so.”

“You don’t have a sister like Mom does, right?”

James laughed. “No. I’m an only child. Like you.”

“And Sirius?”

“Sirius’s family... isn’t around anymore.”

“We’re his family,” Harry said.

James smiled. “Yes.”

“And Uncle Remus?”

“We’re his family, too.” James kissed Harry’s forehead just to the right of his scar. Lily always kissed just to the left. “Stop stalling, now. It's time for bed, Snitch.”

“Mum has to tuck me in, too,” Harry protested.

James sighed. “I think she might’ve already gone to bed. She’s pretty upset about tonight.”

“But I didn’t do it,” Harry said.

“I know. She’s not mad at you. It’s like--if Mum didn’t get along with Sirius, how do you think I’d feel?”

“That’d be awful.”

“It’s like that. I’ll make sure you and her talk in the morning, okay?”

Harry nodded and James kissed his forehead one more time.

“And happy birthday," his father added. "We’ll be sure to celebrate it proper tomorrow.”


	3. The Burrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry visits a friend for his birthday, and it may actually make what was the worst birthday ever into the best birthday ever.

Lily apologized to Harry first thing the next morning. “It wasn’t fair of me to assume it was your fault. Your father told me everything, but even still, I should have listened to you, no matter how upset I was.”

“It’s okay; I forgive you,” Harry said with a small smile. 

Lily hugged him tightly and kissed the left corner of his forehead, then she set breakfast out on the table.

“Dad promised we’d celebrate my birthday today,” Harry said. 

Lily had a secretive smile and James had a wide grin.

“What is it?” he begged. “What are we doing?”

Lily passed a parchment envelope to him. Harry recognized the handwriting on the front immediately. It was from Ron. But the date at the top of the letter was from yesterday

Dear Harry,

Happy Birthday!

I hope you got lots of great presents. I wanted to get you something, but I didn’t know what. Mum suggested I invite you to stay at our place for a couple days. I’m not sure it’s much of a birthday present, but you can come if you like. There’s an old ghoul in the attic, and gnomes in the garden, but at least we have good space for Quidditch, and Fred and George promised they would play with us too.

If you want to come, I mean. I don’t want you to feel like you have to.

-Ron

Harry looked up at his parents excitedly. “Can I really?”

“Of course,” James beamed.

\--- --- ---

Harry arrived a few hours later at The Burrow. It was tall, old, rickety, and so full of magic. When Harry looked up, it seemed like the house was leaning forward. He wondered if it was even held up by magic.

Lily carried his overnight bag, ready for a few days, and Harry carried his broom. He’d never stayed over at a friend’s house before. He’d stayed with Sirius or Uncle Remus, but that had been baby-sitting. This was so much more grown-up.

Ron answered the door, a little pink in the face and slightly out of breath. “Hullo, Harry.”

Fred and George came skidding around the corner behind him. “Harry! You made it!” they shouted at him with wide grins.

Harry’s ears went a little pink as he stepped inside.

Molly Weasley met them halfway to the kitchen, spoon in her hand. Harry had never seen her outside of parties, where she usually had her hair neatly pressed and wore her best robes. Right now, her hair was frizzed a bit, her dress was made from a couple different fabrics, and she wore a flower-printed apron with her wand stuck in one of the pockets. It was so opposite to Lily, who made house spells look like a neat task, requiring no more than a flick of the wand.

His eyes wandered around the house, not sure what to focus on. All of it was too fascinating--There was the coat hanger above the fireplace that looked like an orange tabby, or there was the clock with only one hand and instead of numbers it said “tea time” or “time to feed the chickens” or “you’re late!” Or there was the excess of books piled everywhere about the house, instead of organized into neat bookshelves like in his parents’ study.

“It’s not much,” Ron mumbled, hastily straightening a pile of books.

“It’s brilliant,” Harry grinned.

“Lunch will be ready soon,” Molly said. “Why don’t you take your things up to Ron’s room in the mean time.”

Harry took his bag from his mom and Lily disappeared into the kitchen with Molly. He, Ron, Fred, and George, started the long trek upstairs to the top of the house.

“Sorry it’s so far,” Ron mumbled, but Harry didn’t care. He was far too busy peeking into the rooms along the stairway, and catching glimpses of the view across the countryside the higher they climbed.

Harry took in the bright orange and laughed. “Chudley Cannons? Really?”

“They’re doing really well this year.” Ron said.

Harry set his broom in a corner with his bag and ran to the window. “You can see everything from up here!” He turned around and grinned. “This is the best birthday present ever!”

Ron turned bright red. Fred and George doubled over in laughter.

“I’m sure you got something better from Sirius,” Ron mumbled.

“Not exactly.” And Harry told them about his miserable birthday, Dobby, and the strange warning about danger at Hogwarts.

Fred frowned. “That sounds pretty fishy.”

“I reckon it was a joke,” George said. “Someone at Hogwarts sent him, someone who doesn’t want you to come back. Anyone you know with a grudge on you?”

“Draco Malfoy,” Harry and Ron answered at the same time. They exchanged a look of mutual disgust and understanding. That made so much sense. Malfoy’s family would definitely be wealthy enough to have a house elf, and Malfoy was absolutely mean and rude enough to play such a horrible and obnoxious joke on Harry.

“Lucius Malfoy’s kid?” Fred asked.

“I think so,” Harry said. He was only vaguely familiar with the Malfoys--Sirius had a cousin who married a Malfoy, or something. He wasn’t too familiar with Sirius’s family, because every time it came up, Sirius made a joke that made Lily frown and James clear his throat, and Uncle Remus would change the subject.

“Uncle Fabian said he was a big supporter of You-Know-Who,” George said.

“But he came to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared, said he never meant any of it.” Fred said this with an over-exaggerated posh accent. “Uncle Gideon thinks he’s lying, and he was in You-Know-Who’s inner circle the whole time.”

“But Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon are a little strange,” Ron said.

Harry rather liked Ron’s uncles. They were good friends with James and Lily, but Ron was right. They were from Alastor Moody’s school of defense training, which was a lot of looking-over-your-shoulder and throwing spells into dark corners.

Still, knowing Draco Malfoy, he wondered if there was some sort of darker magic happening. But even Draco Malfoy couldn’t be worse than You-Know-Who, right? So it must’ve all been a stupid prank.

Molly called them back downstairs for lunch. Lily kissed Harry’s cheek and told him to be good and helpful and she would see him in three days when they went to Diagon Alley together.

Molly served their lunch and Harry had two servings. Mrs. Weasley’s cooking was so much better than his mother’s. Maybe it came from more practice. He knew that this was not all of Ron’s family and yet the house still felt so crowded. Sure, at Harry’s, Sirius and Uncle Remus came in and out, but the house had never felt this full of life.

There was Percy, who appeared just for the meal and disappeared to his room otherwise. Then the twins, who were loud and excitable about everything, and Ron who may not have been loud, but still managed to fill space. Harry loved everything about this house and the people in it.

Mr. Weasley came home in the middle of lunch, which resulted in a greeting as loud and as excitable as when Harry arrived. Fred and George did a lot of shouting as they ran with Ron into the garden to greet him.

They all sat back down at the table and Mr. Weasley wearily told them about the Ministry raids that had kept him up all night, and Mundungus Fletcher throwing a hex at his back. Molly made him a cup of strong tea and he half-fell asleep in his chair.

“Where’s Ginny?” Harry asked, realizing he hadn’t seen her this whole time. And they were nearly finishing lunch. She did live here, didn’t she?

“I dunno,” Ron shrugged and picked his and his dad’s dishes. “She’s usually right on Fred and George’s heels.”

“Is she sick?” Harry grabbed the dishes Ron could not carry and followed Ron into the kitchen.

“Mum says she’s alright.”

Harry wondered if Ginny would play Quidditch with them later. He hadn’t forgotten last year, when Fred and George said she could fly faster than Ron. But he quickly forgot when Ron announced the afternoon’s plans.

“Mum said Fred and George have to de-gnome the garden, but after, they said they’d play Quidditch with us. There’s a good clearing for it in the woods over the hill.”

“De-gnoming the garden sounds fun,” Harry said.

“It really isn’t,” Ron said.

But Harry went to the backyard and Ron followed. Ron showed him how to uproot a gnome and disorient it. Harry felt a bit guilty swinging them around like that, but after one angrily kicked him, he felt less bad. It wasn’t long before he, Ron, Fred, and George, were competing to see who could throw their gnomes the farthest. It was nearly as much fun as Qudditch.

Which was good, because Molly called them in for dinner at sunset, and it would be too dark afterwards to play Quidditch.

Ginny appeared at the dinner table, but she said very little. Conversation was mostly dominated by Fred and George, bragging about how far they’d gotten their gnomes.

“One bit Harry’s finger,” Fred said with a laugh.

“He threw it nearly fifty feet!” George finished, and the table erupted into laughter (except Percy, who seemed uninterested in the conversation). Even Ginny giggled a little and made eye contact with Harry, then gulped down her glass of water so quickly she nearly choked.

Fred and George turned in early--”You should too, Harry,” Fred said, and George said, “De-gnoming is just so exhausting.”

But Harry did not feel tired at all as he and Ron went upstairs. They stayed up talking, and Ron apologized every time the ghoul would bang on the pipes, but Harry didn’t care.

Just after midnight, there was a quiet knock on the door.

“Sorry, Mum, we’ll keep it down,” Ron said, but Fred and George walked in instead.

“I thought you went to bed,” Harry said and adjusted his glasses.

They shared a devious grin. “Ready for your birthday present from us, Harry?”


	4. At Flourish and Blotts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins' give Harry a birthday present, Sirius tries to give him a better one, and a fight breaks out at Flourish and Blotts.
> 
> Basically, Sirius is the worst influence ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is long,i'm sorry but it's GREAT SO I'M ALSO NOT SORRY

It was a birthday present Sirius would have greatly approved of (and in turn, literally no other adult would have been impressed). A trip in a flying Ford Anglia was something Harry would have never thought to ask for, but he couldn’t have imagined a more perfect gift to go with a couple night’s stay at the Burrow.

Harry had ridden in cars before, and he’d even flown on Sirius’s motorbike once. This was entirely different, and maybe that was because it was only them. Only him and Ron and Fred and George. It made it feel more dangerous, and more exciting for that.

Maybe Lily was right. Maybe Sirius was a bad influence on him.

After a few hours soaring in and out of clouds, laughing and eating some sweets Fred and George had saved for the trip, they touched down just outside the Burrow as the sun was rising, and Fred and George quietly pushed the car into the garage.

They were still whispering excitedly--”That cow looked terrified” and “Shh, we can’t wake Mum”--but their whispers carried well on open fields.

Just as Fred and George were climbing the porch steps the door flew open. All four boys froze.

Molly Weasley was standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, face bright red. Fred and George shrank back two steps which had the inadvertent effect of Molly Weasley towering over her sons, even though she was shorter than each of them when on level ground.

“Beds empty!” she shrieked. “No note! Car gone--could have crashed--out of my mind with worry--did you care?--never, as long as I’ve lived--you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy--”

“Perfect Percy,” muttered Fred.

“YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY’S BOOK!” Mrs. Weasley prodded a finger against Fred’s chest. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job--”

“We had an invisibility booster,” George said.

“That’s hardly the point!” Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips and looked past the twins to Ron and Harry. Both ducked their heads and struggled to meet her furious gaze. “And you two! I’d think you had more sense than this! I’ve half a mind to write your mother and have her take you straight home!”

“No, Mum, please don’t,” Ron said. “It was Fred and George’s idea--their birthday present for him. It’s not Harry’s fault.”

“You have a working mouth! You can say no! You don’t have to be roped into everything your brothers do! All of you, inside. I want that kitchen spotless by the time Ginny and Percy come down for breakfast.”

Harry filed in behind Ron, quiet and subdued. But as he dried the dishes Ron scrubbed, they exchanged a conspiratorial grin. Fred and George shared the same smile while they scrubbed down the stove. Getting into trouble wasn’t fun, but being in trouble with friends had a sort of thrill to it.

Yeah, Sirius was definitely a bad influence on him.

The kitchen was spotless when breakfast was served. Harry had learned a good deal about cleaning without a wand thanks to his mother, and Fred and George were practically experts at it. Ron said it was because Mrs. Weasley had them doing chores whenever they got into trouble, which was a lot.

The four of them yawned their way through breakfast, but when Fred said, “We’ll go down to the clearing so we can fly without being seen,” Harry perked right up. Flying in a car was great, but flying a broom was far better.

“You will not,” Mrs. Weasley said sharply.

“But Mum,” said George, “we promised Harry we’d practice Quidditch with him. Wood’ll kill us if we’re not in top form when we get back to school.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you took the car out.”

“We cleaned the kitchen,” Ron pleaded. “We already got in trouble, so it’s fine now, right?”

“Not by a sight! You four won’t be going anywhere until your father gets home and decides what to do with you.”

Harry swallowed his eggs. “So--you won’t be writing my Mum?”

“I haven’t decided.”

The boys were on their best behavior all afternoon. Fred and George refrained from teasing Percy for an entire four hours. Ron and Harry started on their summer homework, very obviously in the living room, where Molly could see them. They were so quiet, Ginny appeared and sat down in the armchair near them, but she didn’t say anything. Harry thought of several things he could say to her, but she kept avoiding him whenever he tried to look at her, so he ended up not saying anything at all.

Mrs. Weasley called them to lunch, and just as they were sitting down, Mr. Weasley came in. He was as tired as he had been the day before. He picked at his sandwich for a moment, then looked wearily around the table. If he was confused by his sons’ (and Harry’s) guilty faces, he did not show it. “Molly, dear,” he called into the kitchen. “Do we have any tea?”

Mrs. Weasley stood in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, holding Mr. Weasley’s cup of tea. But it seemed like she was holding it hostage instead of serving it.

“Is something wrong?” Mr. Weasley asked.

“Would you like to know what your sons did last night?” she said.

Mr. Weasley looked at Fred, then George, then Ron, then Percy, then Ginny, then Harry. “It seems like Percy slept quite well, at least. Was Ron’s room not too comfortable, Harry?”

“Fine, sir,” Harry said.

“Your sons didn’t sleep last night because they were too busy flying your illegally enchanted car in the dead of night.” Mrs. Weasley was red-faced with fury again. Harry was sure she was going to write to his parents and he’d be on his way home before he could finish his sandwich.

Mr. Arthur looked startled by this news, and then smiled at Fred and George. “How did it go? Did the Invisibility Booster function properly? I was a bit worried--” He looked suddenly at Molly and ducked his head down. “I mean, that was very wrong boys, very wrong indeed….”

Molly looked ready to launch into another tirade, this time directed at Arthur. Harry, Ron, Fred, and George took the opportunity to slip away and grab their brooms.

“Should we invite Ginny or Percy?” Harry asked as they went out the back door.

“Percy’s too busy being a prefect,” George muttered.

Fred glanced over his shoulder. “And I’m not fighting with Mum about Ginny today.”

“Mum thinks it’s too dangerous for Ginny to fly,” Ron explained. “She wouldn’t do it at all, except Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon bought her a broom one year and told her it was all fine. Mum still doesn’t like it, though.”

They walked up the hill to the Weasley’s paddock, marked off by the trees around it. The trees provided a good cover, allowing them to fly without worrying about being seen by Muggles. Fred and George tossed apples in place of Quaffles and Bludgers. Harry let them all try out his broom, and they all agreed it was by far the best. The time flew by, and they played until it was too dark to see. They hadn’t even realized the sun was set until Harry’s glasses were knocked off by an apple, and it took them fifteen minutes to find them on the ground.

Harry and Ron fell asleep right after dinner and didn’t wake up until almost ten the next morning, which made him mad. He felt like he’d slept away almost all of his last day at the Weasley’s.

Mrs. Weasley gave him and Ron a small breakfast, and told them James would be coming to pick Harry up after lunch.

Harry and Ron sadly packed Harry’s things back into his school bag.

“I still hope she doesn’t tell Mum and Dad about the car,” Harry said.

“At least we got some homework done,” Ron said. “They can’t be mad about that.”

After lunch, when Ron and Harry were tossing small crackers that sparked and popped off the balcony, they heard a loud crack on the front porch, accompanied by James’s loud greeting. They crept downstairs to listen. They only had to get halfway down the stairs to hear Molly shouting the story at James.

“And I thought Mum was the only one who could talk to him like that,” said Harry.

Ron laughed into his hand.

They went down one more flight to hear James’s calmer response: “But, the boys are alright then? No one got hurt, and no one saw them?”

They heard Mrs. Weasley splutter. “No. They’re fine. But they could have--”

“I’ll scold Harry appropriately,” James said. “It was a dangerous thing to do. I’m just glad they’re okay.”

Harry and Ron decided it was safe to go into the kitchen.

James gave Harry a tight hug, asked if he had fun, and thanked Molly for her hospitality. Harry said goodbye to Ron, and Fred and George came to say their goodbyes as well. Percy and Ginny were nowhere to be seen.

On the front porch, Harry begged James not to tell Lily. James agreed with a faint smile. “But promise me you won’t ever do something like that again.”

Harry nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes of course.”

When they returned home, Harry told his mother about de-gnoming the garden and playing Quidditch and how much fun he had with Ron and asked if Ron and Fred and George could come over sometime soon. Lily and James said there wasn’t much summer left, but they would see about having the Weasleys over for Christmas again.

A letter from Hermione arrived a few days later, telling Harry she was going to Diagon Alley that Wednesday, and he should join her if he could, and Ron might be coming as well. Lily and James said that would not be possible, because they had a meeting with Dumbledore on Wednesday.

“But it won’t be nearly as fun if I don’t go with them,” Harry begged. “I can go by myself and meet them. Her parents will be there.” James and Lily did not think that Hermione’s Muggle parents were suitable chaperons for three rambunctious wizards in Diagon Alley. “And if Ron goes, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley will be there.” But James and Lily thought Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had their hands full with five children, one of which was getting ready for her very first year at Hogwarts. “But what if Sirius takes me?” James and Lily hesitated, and finally agreed that Sirius was a suitable chaperon only if Uncle Remus went too. And Harry was to be on his best behavior, because it would be only a day before a full moon, and he was not to wear Remus out. Harry promised to be perfect as a Puffskein.

So on Wednesday, Sirius arrived to take Harry to Diagon Alley via Floo Network, and Uncle Remus was to meet them there.

As soon as Sirius and Harry were in Diagon Alley, away from Lily, Harry told him all about the flying car ride.

“Don’t know how I’ll top a present like that,” Sirius laughed, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Where are we going?” Harry asked as Sirius led him down a side street. “And where is Uncle Remus?”

Sirius checked the Muggle watch on his wrist. “Remus should be meeting us at Gringotts in about… thirty minutes. I’m taking you to get your birthday present.”

Harry had never been down this side of Diagon Alley before--and then he realized it wasn’t Diagon Alley at all. The sign said “Knockturn Alley” and every shop was devoted to the Dark Arts. Sirius led Harry into a small shop with candles in the window placed dangerously close to stacks of loose parchment.

The shop owner was a hunched-over old woman, with a gnarled face a toothy smile. “Ah, Mr. Black. I’ve been expecting you.” She said this ominously, but Sirius only laughed.

“I made an appointment,” he whispered to Harry.

The old woman disappeared into the back of the store, and came back with a very old leather-bound book. It was tied shut with a strip of leather wrapped around it multiple times, and some of the pages stuck out unevenly around the edges.

“What is it?” Harry asked as he took it from the old woman.

“Last year I started cleaning out my parents’ house.” Sirius made a face at the mention of his family home as he paid the woman for the book. “I was low on money, so I started looking for things to sell. This book was one of the things I got rid of. But then I saw your Defense Against the Dark Arts spell book list, and I knew I had to get you something better.” Sirius led Harry out of the shop. “It’s a collection of notes and letters from my family that span centuries. Normally, I wouldn’t be a fan, but I bet you there’s some good hexes in there, and I figured you could make some use of them. You’ll learn better things in there than in any of Gilderoy Lockhart’s books.” Sirius said Lockhart’s name with unusual distaste.

“Dad likes Lockhart’s books,” Harry said, but he clutched the book Sirius had given him tightly. It was sort of exciting to be given something so old.

Sirius snorted. “Your dad likes anything that sounds like an adventure, but it doesn’t make the books good. Just ask your Mum. She hates them as much as I do.”

Harry froze suddenly and grabbed the sleeve of Sirius’s cloak. “Sirius,” he hissed. “That’s Draco Malfoy.”

It was indeed Draco Malfoy and a man who looked like a grown-up version of Draco with longer hair walking into a shop called Borgin and Burkes

Sirius gripped Harry’s hand tightly. “Best not to mention to your Mum and Dad we were here. Not actually a place for decent wizards.”

Harry already knew Draco Malfoy wasn’t much of a decent wizard, and it reaffirmed his suspicions about Dobby’s warning having been only a prank. As they walked, Harry told Sirius all about Dobby and how he was sure it was Draco Malfoy who’d arranged it.

“Your parents mentioned something about that,” Sirius said. “Sounds like a pretty Malfoy thing to do, if you ask me.”

Sirius and Harry made their way to Gringotts, and Remus was waiting on the front steps, chatting politely with two people Harry didn’t recognize. Then he saw Hermione come out from behind them.

“Harry!” she said excitedly, and bounded down the steps. They hugged tightly and she said, “Ron’s inside with his parents. We just finished exchanging our money for wizarding money. Have you finished your homework yet? I’ve done so much of it already. Of course there will be even more once we get our books.”

Remus introduced Sirius to Hermione’s parents, and then the Weasleys came out of the bank. Mr. Weasley insisted on taking Hermione’s parents for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. He had so many questions about Muggle life, and Sirius was interested in going as well. 

Remus looked over at Ron, Hermione, and Harry warily. “James and Lily asked us to keep an eye on him.”

“He’ll be fine,” Sirius said, “besides, you look like you need a cup.” 

Remus did look rather pale, and Harry felt a little bad about having asked him to come, just so he could shop with his friends. 

“We’ll be alright,” Harry said to Uncle Remus. “You can sit with them and rest. Hermione will keep us out of trouble.”

Remus smiled faintly and agreed. He told them very sternly to stay together, and be back at Flourish and Blotts in exactly an hour.

They promised, and Sirius gave Harry the bag of Galleons that James and Lily had set aside for Harry’s school things.

Harry bought his friends some snacks, and they browsed Quidditch supplies for Ron and Harry. They found Lee Jordan in a joke shop with Fred and George, and Hermione dragged them into an old bookstore for parchment and new quills, where they found Percy.

An hour later, and a few sickles lighter, everyone regrouped at Flourish and Blotts. Except Flourish and Blotts was surprisingly crowded--the door was packed with witches--and Harry had no idea how they would find Remus and Sirius in this mess.

“Oh,” Hermione said and pointed at the shop window. “Gilderoy Lockhart is doing a book signing! I mean, he’s wrote half the list of our books. That’s so exciting.”

Harry and Ron were less impressed as they elbowed their way into the bookstore. They made their way to the front of the crowd just in time to see Gilderoy Lockhart--a wizard with a charming smile, wavy blonde hair, a robe that matched his eyes and hat perfectly--emerge from the back. His sparkling blue eyes landed on Harry Potter and he grabbed him. “Harry Potter!” he said excitedly. He shook Harry’s hand and nodded to a camera. Before Harry was well aware of what was happening, a bright light flashed in his face and a stack of books was dropped into Harry’s arms. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Lockhart said loudly, then smiled again for another camera flash, “what an extraordinary moment for me to make a little announcement I’ve been sitting on for some time! When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography--which I shall be happy to present him with, free of charge--He had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

There was an applause and another flash from a camera, and Harry quickly slipped away. The first person he bumped into was Ginny, and he dumped his books into her cauldron. “Here, have these. I’ll get my own.”

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter?”

Harry knew that voice without looking. He’d hoped to avoid Draco today--Diagon Alley was such a big place--but they would be in all the same stores getting all the same school supplies. It didn’t make him any less frustrated with Draco’s stupid sneer.

“Famous Harry Potter. Can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page.”

“Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that!” Ginny said suddenly. Harry realized he hadn’t heard her speak since his birthday party last year.

“Potter, you’ve got yourself a girlfriend,” Malfoy cooed.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “She’s a farsight better than having Crabbe on my arm all day, or worse, clinging to my dad’s arm all day.”

Malfoy scowled at Harry and Harry saw Ginny turn scarlet beside him.

Ron came over and looked at Malfoy like an especially lengthy Potions assignment. “Oh, it’s you. Bet you’re surprised to see Harry here, eh?”

“Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley. I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those.”

Now Ron was as red as his sister and Harry felt ready to punch Draco in the face. He probably would have if Hermione hadn’t grabbed him with one arm and Ron with the other.

Sirius was such a bad influence on him.

“Ron!” Mr. Weasley shouted. He was wading through the crowd towards him, Fred and George on his heels. “What are you doing? It’s too crowded in here, let’s go outside.”

Then Harry saw Remus approaching him as well and knew it was not the place for a fight. He unclenched his fist, but continued glaring Malfoy down.

“Well, well, well--Arthur Weasley.” This was Draco’s father, who suddenly walked over and put his hand on Draco’s shoulder. Their sneers were as identical as Fred and George (if one had taken an aging potion first). “Ah, and little Remus Lupin.”

Harry did not think of Uncle Remus as very little. He wondered how much older Draco’s father was.

“Malfoy.” Remus inclined his head lightly. But then he looked around quickly, a bit of fear on his face, and Harry wasn’t sure why.

“How do you do, Lucius?” Mr. Weasley asked, but his tone did not say he cared much for the answer.

“Quite well,” Lucius Malfoy said. “I hear you’re having a busy time of it at the Ministry. All those raids… I hope they’re paying you overtime?” He pulled a battered Transfiguration text from Ginny’s cauldron. “Obviously not. Dear me, what’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

Mr. Weasley went as red as his children, and Harry wondered if Mr. Weasley was about to punch Mr. Malfoy. Harry didn’t see any reason to stop him.

Then he saw Sirius and the Grangers coming over, and Uncle Remus went pale--well, paler. Remus shook his head slightly at Sirius, but Sirius pushed his way over anyway.

“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” Mr. Weasley said.

“Clearly.” Lucius Malfoy took stock of the group, and Harry noticed he gave Sirius a particularly sour look, almost as bad as the one he gave Mr. and Mrs. Granger. “The company you keep, Weasley… and I thought your family could sink no lower--”

Ginny’s cauldron went flying. Mr. Weasley jumped at Mr. Malfoy only moments before Sirius did. Ginny’s books tumbled everywhere, and a bookcase shuddered with the force of three adult wizards colliding with it, and more books came toppling out. Remus desperately tried to pull at least one of them out of it. Fred and George cheered. Mrs. Weasley was suddenly there and shrieking at Arthur. The bookkeeper came over and tried to help Remus, but he was thin and Remus was ill, and they were no match for the combined strength of Sirius, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Malfoy.

Then Hagrid appeared, pushing his way through the crowd. “Alrigh’ break it up, there, gents break it up,” he said loudly. He grabbed Sirius with one large hand and Mr. Weasley with the other. He kept his hand on Sirius, let Mr. Weasley fall into Mrs. Weasley’s arms, and then pulled Mr. Malfoy up. Sirius had a bruise on his temple and Mr. Weasley had a cut lip. Mr. Malfoy look winded and adjusted his hair with one hand. With the other he shoved Ginny’s Transfiguration book back into her cauldron.

“Take your book,” he said darkly. “It’s the best your father can give you.”

Sirius lunged at Malfoy again, but Hagrid had a firm grip on his shoulder. Malfoy left as Remus got in front of Sirius and put a gentle hand on Sirius’s chest.

Hagrid and Remus led (or really, forced) Sirius out of the shop and Harry followed.

“Yeh know better than that,” Hagrid said to Sirius. “Brawlin’ like yeh were a firs’ year again.” He shook his great big head and clapped his hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “Be a better man than Malfoy, eh?”

“I’m a much better man than Lucius Malfoy,” Sirius said darkly. Harry thought Sirius was angry enough to go after Lucius Malfoy even still.

Mrs. Weasley was scolding Mr. Weasley in much the same way she’d scolded him about the car. “And what sort of example are you setting--”

“Dad was great,” George protested.

“Malfoy deserved it,” Fred agreed.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Remus corrected, but his voice was faint. This was the only thing that seemed to startle Sirius out of his anger.

“Sorry, mate,” Sirius said. He clenched and unclenched his fist. “Let’s get you home and get your--” he paused, looking for the right word, “--your tea.”

Remus smiled wanly at him and then at Harry. “Did you get everything you needed, then?”

Harry looked over his school list. “Um, mostly, I think. I can come back with Mum and Dad later.” Remus did look awfully tired.

“Why don’t you just finish up and I’ll take Uncle Remus to the Leaky Cauldron. You can meet us there,” Sirius suggested.

“Sirius, no,” Remus protested.

“I’ll take ‘em,” Hagrid said. “They’ll be fine with me,” he promised.

Ron and Hermione eagerly latched onto this idea. Mrs. Weasley agreed and took Mr. Weasley and the Grangers back to the Leaky Cauldron where she could see to any of Mr. Weasley’s injuries. The twins tagged along with Hagrid and invited Ginny, but Ginny decided to stay with her parents and Percy. Harry didn’t blame her. He couldn’t have imagined if all this had happened to him his first year at Diagon Alley.


	5. The Whomping Willow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes back to Hogwarts and doesn't make it more than a few hours before he nearly dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long. The Whomping Willow turned out to be 10x worse than the Mirror of Erised as far as developing story for it. BUT I FINALLY FINISHED and i'm actually halfway through chapter 7 so we're going strong for a while.

Lily did not scold the same way Molly Weasley did. She did not get red-faced and shout until she was hoarse. Her voice was calm, steady, and Harry thought that made it worse, because he felt so guilty when she scolded him. Which is why he was very glad she was not scolding him tonight.

“How could you?” she said sharply. “You knew it was a bad day for Remus, you were supposed to be the responsible adult, there were children and Muggles there--How could you?”

“That’s why,” Sirius protested. “Someone needed to hit Malfoy for being a prejudiced git.”

“That is not your job!” Lily raised her voice just enough to carry into the kitchen but she was not shouting. Projecting is what she would have called it.

“I’m fine, Lily,” Remus said from the couch. “And so is Harry.”

Harry looked up from his copy of Magical Me. He was still trying to decide if he would side with Sirius or his dad about Gilderoy Lockhart. “It was great, Mum. Sirius and Mr. Weasley were totally in the right. Someone had to punch Malfoy.”

“No, no one needs to punch anyone. The Malfoys may be very rude and prejudiced, but that does not give us an excuse to brawl in bookstores!”

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. “You’re over-exaggerating.”

“She really isn’t,” Remus said quietly.

Before Lily and Sirius could start arguing again, James came out of the kitchen with a steaming cup in his hand. He handed it to Remus. “It might not be as good as when Lils makes it.”

Remus wrinkled his nose as he took the cup from James. “There’s really no way to make this good.” He knocked the drink back like a dram of cold medicine, except it was a full glass instead of only a small dosage.

Harry thought Uncle Remus looked even more sick as he handed the glass back to James, but Harry understood that the benefits of the potion would be more obvious tomorrow night. One time, he asked if he could try a sip of it, just to see what it was like, but his parents had said no. Lily explained there was aconite in it, which was highly toxic, and they couldn’t be sure how safe it was for anyone else to drink.

“Stay here tonight,” Lily said.

“I really shouldn’t,” said Remus.

“We insist.” And James didn’t give Remus room to argue. He took the glass back into the kitchen.

“Can Sirius stay too?” Harry asked. He wanted Sirius to help him go through the old book he'd gotten as his birthday present. He thought the present would be more exciting if he could share it with Sirius.

Lily, however, did not seem thrilled about the idea of Sirius spending the night.

“I think,” Remus said slowly, “Sirius might be in the doghouse.”

When James came back into the living room, Sirius was on the floor laughing, and Lily had taken a seat on the couch, shaking from restrained laughter. James was left confused, and not too happy about being left out of a joke.

That night, Lily made up the spare room for Remus and James prepared the couch for Sirius. And the next night, James and Sirius went to stay with Remus, leaving Lily and Harry home alone.

She helped him through his school work and frowned at the list of textbooks for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

“Sirius said Dad likes him,” Harry said.

“Your father likes excitement and Lockhart writes adventure stories, but they’re hardly textbooks for Defense Against the Dark Arts. If I’d realized he was your new Defense teacher, I’d have had a few more words for Dumbledore the other day!”

“What did you and Dumbledore talk about?” Harry asked. “Was it about Dobby? Because I’m sure that was just Draco Malfoy playing a stupid prank on me.”

Lily leaned over the table to brush Harry’s bangs out of his face. “Dumbledore and your father and I all agree that Hogwarts is the best place for you right now, and he assured us they would take extra precautions. Though, I’m not sure I should send you off to learn from Lockhart, when I can teach you far better at home.”

“Why don’t you teach at Hogwarts?” Harry suggested. “At least you’d be better than Professor Quirrell. And you and Dad are both Order of Merlin. That makes you qualified, right?”

She laughed lightly. “I’m not sure I have the patience to teach a classroom full of rowdy students.”

“You’ve got patience with me and Dad.”

“Yes, but I love you and your dad. It makes a difference.” She smiled and kissed Harry’s forehead. “Remus would make a far better teacher than I would.”

“Why doesn’t he?” Harry was quite glad to be off the subject of his homework. “Uncle Remus would be a really good teacher.”

Lily tapped her fingers on the table thoughtfully. “He thinks his condition makes it impossible for him to teach, and that it would be unwise for him to go to Hogwarts.”

“He just gets a little sick,” Harry shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like he can help it.”

“I agree.” Lily smiled a sad sort of smile, and Harry wondered what she was thinking. He knew that the sort of people who didn’t approve of his mother were also the sort of people who didn’t approve of Uncle Remus. People like Draco and his father. People like Sirius’s family.

Harry had heard a few stories about Remus’s transformations from his father and from Sirius. He knew that was where the dog jokes came from, and why James laughed every time Lily called him, “dear.” He wondered how much worse it had been without the potion. Harry tried to imagine what it would be like, at his age, to be that sick every month, with no potion to help. Harry had read enough horror stories about vicious werewolves, and enough articles in the back of the Daily Prophet to get an idea of how terrifying it must have been.

He picked up one of his textbooks, _Wandering with Werewolves_ , and opened it curiously. It fell open of its own accord to an illustration of Gilderoy Lockhart facing about six or seven fully-transformed werewolves. The werewolves were particularly nasty looking, with fangs bared and drool dripping from blood-stained teeth that still held bits of what was either flesh or fabric. Gilderoy Lockhart stood between them and the viewer, but he was looking back over his shoulder and winking with his wand flourished. Harry thought it was not only a poor representation of werewolves, but a poor way to face any attacking monster.

He closed the book and looked at Lily. “Why don’t all werewolves do what Uncle Remus does?”

Lily picked up Marauding with Monsters and frowned at the cover. “The Wolfsbane potion is both very expensive and very difficult to brew. And it needs to be taken every day for the week leading up to the transformation. If Remus didn’t have your father to pay for it and me to brew it every month, it’s unlikely he could afford it.”

“Did you have to brew it when he was at school too?”

“No, the potion is a rather recent invention. I wasn’t close to Remus then, but I believe his transformations when he was in school were very hard for him.”

“But then Dad and Sirius helped, right?” Harry knew a little bit about James and Sirius being Animagi. They didn’t transform often--James mentioned once it was illegal--but they frequently made jokes about it. Like the doghouse joke from yesterday.

“What your father and Sirius did was very dangerous. They could have killed themselves, and if anyone found out, they might’ve gone to prison.”

“But it was for a good cause,” Harry said. “Helping Uncle Remus “

Lily sighed. “You and your father are too much alike sometimes.”

“I only had one detention last year,” Harry protested.

“I just mean that you’ll both do anything to protect people you care about.” But she seemed sad when she said it. She tossed _Marauding with Monsters_ back into Harry’s pile of school books. “Let’s do something productive. Like Potions homework.”

Harry groaned loudly and dramatically dropped his head to the table. “I hate Potions.”

“If you get top marks this year, I’ll show you how to make the Wolfsbane potion.”

This perked Harry right up. He went through his Potions homework with a renewed interest, though he was sure when he got to school and had to face Snape, it wouldn’t help.

\-- --- ---

Summer ended far too quickly.

As much as Harry wanted to go back to Hogwarts and see his friends, he would miss home, and motorcycle rides with Sirius, and Quidditch with his dad, and cooking with his mother. He was excited to share his new book with his friends, though.

“Book” wasn’t exactly the best word for it. It had pages that looked like they were part of a journal. Other pages looked like they’d been ripped out of spellbooks and sewn into the new book. Some pages were not sewn in very well, and would fall out if he didn't carefully tuck them back in when the book was closed. Between some pages were letters with names on them that Harry was familiar with, like Malfoy, Black, and Prewett. Then there were names Harry was not familiar with, like Lestrange and Rosier. And the dates on them went as far back as the seventeenth century.

Harry had gone through the book with Sirius, which was good, because Sirius weeded out some of the nastier letters that had been tucked away between the leather bindings. Harry thought the older ones really belonged in a museum, but Sirius said, as he burned them with a small incendiary charm, “There’s no sense in preserving pureblood drivel.”

Sirius also managed to mark the particularly dark spells, and warn Harry about a few that were too risky for a second yearn to try. Harry was proud that Sirius trusted him with the knowledge of those spells, and that pride was enough of a deterrent from using them. For now, at least.

That, and his mother still promised to teach him the Wolfsbane Potion if he did well in Potions, and his father had promised him a Nimbus 2001 if Harry didn’t get any detentions this year. 

“Even for a good cause, like smuggling a dragon out of school?” Harry had asked, and James had hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Even for a good cause.”

Harry was determined to stay out of trouble.

The problem was, trouble came looking for Harry.

It started when he tried to get on the Hogwarts Express. James, Lily, Harry, Sirius, and Remus all made good time to the station. It was only ten-thirty. But when Harry pushed his cart against the barrier between platforms nine and ten, instead of passing through to platform nine-and-three-quarters, his cart crashed to the ground.

There was a huge delay, with wizards struggling to fix whatever had gone wrong, Muggles staring awkwardly at the crowd of people carrying trunks and owls, but by ten-forty-five, the barrier was repaired and a dozen students and parents rushed to get to the train.

Harry took a seat in the back like he had the year before, and Ron and Hermione joined him shortly. They exchanged stories about the end of their summer. 

“I wish you guys could’ve come visit,” Harry said. “Maybe for Christmas. We can play Quidditch and explore the woods.”

Hermione was not very impressed.

“My parents have a big library, too,” Harry said, and Hermione at least seemed interested in that.

Harry told them about his gift from Sirius, too, and showed Hermione and Ron some of the spells and letters.

“You’re not going to try some of these,” Hermione said.

“I might,” Harry grinned. “Sirius told me there were some safe ones. I should probably check with Uncle Remus first, though.”

Ron looked over a page that had fallen out on the floor. It looked like notes for a dark spell. “Sirius Black is cool, but Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon say the Black family was pretty messed up. I don’t know, Harry, you might want to--Ow, Scabbers--” He shoved his weasel back into his bag.

When the train arrived at the platform, instead of being escorted to the boats like their freshman year, they were led to horseless carriages that pulled themselves up towards the castle.

“I wonder what makes them go,” Hermione asked as the car lurched forward.

“Magic, isn’t it?” Ron asked impishly.

Hermione sniffed and turned her nose up. Harry was quite busy poring over a letter from Regulus Black to a woman named Narcissa Black. The tone of the letter was very intimate, and he was trying to figure out who they were. Based on the dates, they must’ve been in school around the same time as Sirius. But Sirius never talked much about his family, and this book made Harry all the more curious. He didn’t even notice Scabbers had slipped out of Ron’s pocket and was sniffing the pages.

Then, suddenly, Scabbers took the corner of one of the pages in his mouth and leaped out of the carriage.

“Hey!” Harry jumped after Scabbers. The papers in the leather-bound notebook went flying. Hermione tried to grab them as Harry tumbled out of the moving carriage and ran after Scabbers.

“Ron, call your weasel!” Hermione said.

“He never listens to me,” Ron said.

Harry barely heard them. He was too busy running after Scabbers. He’d never known Ron’s weasel to nibble on parchment before. He wondered what had gotten into the old thing.

Harry felt like he had chased it halfway across the grounds before he managed to pounce on it. He wrapped his hands around Scabbers middle, but before he could even stand he heard something creak and groan. He barely managed to roll aside before a large tree branch smashed down to the ground. Harry got up and ducked as the large, gnarled tree swiped at him.

He was still clutching Scabbers tightly as he jumped out of the tree’s reach. The weasel squeaked in his hands and squirmed. Harry held Scabbers in one hand and reached down to pick up the letter Scabbers had dropped. He kept his eyes on the tree. It seemed still. He stepped forward and as soon as his hand closed on the letter, one of the branches slammed down. He barely managed to jump out of the way.

Harry began the walk back to the path, shaken from the close encounter with the tree. He had Scabbers, still wriggling desperately in one hand, and a damp and torn letter in the other. He hoped it was still readable. When he reached the path, Fred and George were in the carriage passing by with Lee Jordan.

“Harry! What happened to you?” Fred laughed.

George reached a hand down and helped him in. “This is the last carriage, mate. Don’t want to miss the feast.”

“It’s Ginny’s sorting,” Fred grinned and winked at George.

“Watcha got there?” Lee asked and pointed at Scabbers.

“Ron’s weasel,” Harry sighed. “He ran off with my letter. Don’t know what’s got into him. I nearly got smashed by a tree.”

“The Whomping Willow!” Fred said.

“No way,” said George. “That’s incredible.”

“It didn’t hit you or anything?” Lee asked. “I got a black eye my first year, trying to touch the trunk.”

“Madam Pomfrey threw a right fit about that,” Fred laughed.

“There’s supposed to be a secret passage beneath it,” George said, “but we’ve never been able to get to it. That Whomping Willow guards her secrets well.”

Between the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, Harry laughed the whole way up to the castle. It was never a dull moment with those three. Fred and George told Lee about stealing the flying car, asked Harry if he had any new tricks for Quidditch, and plotted an entirely new set of strategies for facing the Whomping Willow.

Once inside the Great Hall, Harry found Ron and Hermione again. He handed Scabbers to Ron, and Hermione handed him his journal. She’d put the scattered pages back in and re-bound it. Harry slipped the letter back inside, but left the corner tucked so he could read it later.

No one was surprised when Ginny was sorted into Gryffindor. Fred and George cheered the loudest, of course, but Ron and Harry were right behind them. 

In the common room, Harry told Hermione and Ron about the Whomping Willow. Hermione tapped her fingers on one of the books in her lap.

“That’s odd,” she said, “that they would have such a dangerous tree on school grounds.”

“The last time we found something like that was Fluffy,” Ron said, and his face was a little green.

“I wonder what it’s protecting.” Harry looked thoughtfully out the window.

“No,” Hermione said very quickly. “No, you’re not going to go down there to find what it’s protecting, and you will not take the cloak down there just to see if it will still sense you.”

Harry laughed, because that was exactly what he’d been wondering. “Yeah, I don’t want a detention again.” He was still dreaming about that Nimbus 2001. “So no sneaking out. But maybe if we go on Saturday, just to see what would happen.”

“You’ve got Quidditch practice on Saturday, mate,” Ron said, and Harry sighed.

They went to bed late that night, when the excitement of Hogwarts and being amongst friends was finally beginning to wear off. Harry drew the curtains around his bed and whispered, “Lumos.”

His wand lit up and he pulled out the letter Scabbers had snatched from the book.

_October 31, 1979_

_Dear Barty,_

_Don’t. I mean it. I grew up with Bellatrix and she’s only gotten worse since she left home. She’s volatile and unpredictable, and the reason she’s the Dark Lord’s right hand has nothing to do with her blood and everything to do with how easily she spills it. She’s not the sort of person you want to follow closely, if only because she might turn around and bite you for her own gain. There are better ways to advance than following her heels._

_I hope you and your family enjoyed a pleasant Halloween. It’s strange to be home again instead of at Hogwarts together. Our Halloween here was rather quiet. Father’s health is failing, and Mother was in an especially sour mood. But fall is always hard for her. I know you don’t like when I talk about my brother, but sometimes I think she’d rather I was the one who ran away. Sirius and Mother may not have got on well, but they were so much more alike than her and I are. She would’ve preferred him as the family heir than me._

_But hopefully that will change. The Dark Lord has requested the use of our House Elf for a task he said was very important. I’m expecting Kreacher to return shortly with news about this task and hopefully information that will allow me a little more political power. I know you’re more interested in hexes, but I’m interested in change. It’s the system that needs fixing and hexing mudbloods isn’t the answer. I don’t know how many ways I can explain that to you._

_I imagine you’ll be at your father’s next campaign, and I know Mother will attend as well. Father may not be well enough, so I’ll likely have to go in his place. I know you hate them, but go. We can talk more in person than over a few sheets of parchment._

_Sincerely,_

_Regulus Black_


	6. Gilderoy Lockhart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's made his decision on how he feels about his new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Dear Mum and Dad,

Professor Lockhart is awful! Please convince Uncle Remus to come be our teacher right away. He keeps talking to me about being famous and how someday I’ll be as famous as him and I can’t stand it. He made me late to Herbology just to ask if I would invite you guys over for tea because you’re both Order of Merlin, First Class, and he’s Third Class so it’s “practically the same thing.”

I’m beginning to think he’s not a real teacher. Maybe he’s the danger Dobby was warning me about. He gave us a quiz on his favorite color and then let out some Cornish pixies, and when his spell didn’t work, left us to clean it up! One broke Ron’s wand. He patched it with some Spellotape but I don’t know how well it works.

Please, Mum, I’d much rather have you as a Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Or even Uncle Sirius. Just write Dumbledore and tell him you’d love to take over for Professor Lockhart.

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

I’m sure Lockhart just wanted to provide his students with some hands-on experience dealing with Cornish pixies. They aren’t especially dangerous, so it seems reasonable to leave them to second years. As much as your Mum would love to teach you, I’m not sure I could stomach her being at school all year and leaving me at home.

Now that you’re gone, she’s already started talking about getting a job in the Ministry again. She seems a bit more determined this year. Hopefully it’s just a passing fancy. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if she was gone half the day.

Let us know when your first Quidditch match is. We’re very excited to see you play again.

Love,

Mum and Dad

\--- --- ---

Dear Uncle Remus,

Cornish pixies really aren’t deadly, right? One bit Neville’s finger and Professor Lockhart says it’s fine, but I’m not really sure I believe him. I lost points on my exam because I didn’t remember that his secret ambition is to market magical hair care. He’s an awful teacher. I’d almost rather have Snape. Almost.

I’d really rather you were my teacher. Mum thinks you’d be good at it. I do too. I like learning from you, and I think everyone else would too. You should write to Dumbledore and tell him you can take over for Professor Lockhart.

At least Herbology is fun. We got to repot Mandrakes. Professor Sprout doesn’t usually let us do practical stuff. 

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

Cornish pixie bites are not deadly, but Neville should probably see Madam Pomfrey, in case of infection or allergic reaction. She’s a wonderful woman and very patient with small things like a pixie bite.

I’m afraid I wouldn’t be as great a teacher as you think. It’s one thing to learn at home, and a completely different thing to teach a classroom. I’m sure Dumbledore knows what he’s doing by hiring Professor Lockhart.

Good luck with mandrakes. I seem to recall fainting in that lesson. Wasn’t the best time of the month for gardening. You might want to ask your parents for any mandrake-related questions. But if you need any help with Defense Against the Dark Arts, please let me know. I’d be happy to help.

Love,

Uncle Remus

\--- --- ---

Dear Sirius,

Defense Against the Dark Arts is awful and I’m so glad I have this book from you because we’re not going to learn anything from Lockhart this year.

I included a great picture Colin Creevey gave me. He’s nice, but he’s super annoying and always taking pictures and asking for autographs but that just makes Malfoy more obnoxious and Lockhart worse because Lockhart thinks I’m doing it for attention and if I have to listen to him go on about what it takes to win Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award, I might accidentally hex him.

He tried to get me to pose for that picture Colin took and I think the fact that he can’t even drag me into the photo says a lot about how I feel about him and these ridiculous pictures.

Love, 

Harry

P.S. Do you have a brother?

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

I don’t recommend hexing a teacher, unless you can get away with it. But if you can get away with it, go for it. One time, we gave McGonagall some biscuits, and of course she was suspicious, but it wasn’t the biscuits we put the love potion in, it was the tea. (The biscuits as a distraction was Remus’s idea, and it was brilliant.) Of course, she found out after it wore off, and she realized she’d given us a pass on a bunch of homework we didn’t do, so we all got detention for it AND had to do the essays. Not our finest moment. But the setup was beautiful.

Lockhart sounds like a real treat. Sorry, mate. I am framing this photo, however, and putting it on the fridge (you know, the Muggle version of a cooling charm). It’s golden. 

And the family I grew up with isn’t really my family. Your dad’s the only brother I’ve got.

Love,

Sirius

\--- --- ---

Dear Draco,

I wanted to personally apologize for the scene that occurred in Flourish and Blotts this last summer. I should have been more attentive to the situation and quicker to prevent a fight. I hope you are doing well and will continue to excel in your studies. I’ve heard you are quite good in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. I wish you the best of luck and if you ever have any questions about your classes, you are more than welcome to write.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

\--- --- ---

_November 18th, 1979_

_Dearest Sister,_

_Mother told me about your pregnancy. I do hope this one works out. I am quite ready to be an aunt. It sounds much less trying than being a mother. I suppose now that I’m married too, Mother will expect me to have children any day now. But I don’t dare bring a child into this world before we’ve perfected it. Our cause is too important for me to waste time raising a child._

_Of course, I don’t mean ill of you or your husband. He’s proved himself very useful these last couple months. And having children is important, ever so important. We must continue our bloodlines, but it just isn’t a sacrifice I can make at this time. And do take care of yourself. Don’t worry too much. You can’t have a healthy baby without being healthy yourself._

_I’ll try to come by before Christmas and see you. I do miss you so much. Family is the most important thing in the middle of a war, especially in the middle of one focused on protecting our blood._

_Have you heard anything from Reggie? He was helping the Dark Lord with something important, but none of us have heard from him for a fortnight now. I thought perhaps he had said something to you. Please let me know if you hear from him. I’m quite worried about him. He’s all Auntie has left._

_Love,_

_Bella_


	7. Mudbloods and Murmurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets his first detention of the year, and has to spend the night in the hospital wing with Draco Malfoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Date reference: In the summer of 1978, the Marauders graduated; Regulus would have been in his sixth year.

_Friday, January 27, 1978  
DADA Notes_

_Confringo aka Blasting Curse_  
Expulso  
\--Confringo and Expulso differ in size and strength and incendiary capabilities. Confringo will damage persons in the area, and will cause fire. Expulso repels objects in a similar manner to an explosion but no flame will appear. Damage largely done by sheer force and will not cause direct pain to the target of its own accord. (WILL BE ON THE TEST) 

_Fernunculus--Pimple Jinx  
Naresvertum--a jinx that turns the nose green_

_Incendia Incendicum--purple flame that causes internal damage. Very deadly and only to be used in the most dangerous of situations, may result in death of target if cast with enough strength (motion similar to semp. ask sev)_

Fernunculus and Naresvertum are good basic dueling jinxes. Confringo and Expulso can cause a lot of damage when not used properly so I do NOT recommend even attempting them for a few years. Maybe in a couple summers I can show you how to use them. DON’T use Incendia Incedicum. It’s nasty curse and there’s no easy counter for it. If you hit someone with it, they might die very painfully. Do NOT try it. --Sirius

\--- --- ---

Dear Mom and Dad,

I know I promised I wouldn’t get any detentions this year, but it was absolutely for a good cause. Malfoy deserved an ugly green nose. (The swelling, oozing part was accidental.) He called Hermione a rude name just because her parents are Muggles. So Ron and I both hexed him. Well, Ron’s spell backfired, and he got hexed, and my hex landed, and Draco hexed me back.

But it was totally justified. Please please please don’t be mad at me. I got hexed back, and Professor McGonagall still gave me detention, even though Draco caused a bunch of boils to appear on my face, (which hurt really bad, by the way) and I have to spend the night in the hospital with Malfoy. Isn’t that punishment enough?

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Ron was dismissed from the hospital wing just before dinner. He’d puked up the worst of the slugs, and Madam Pomfrey was at her wit’s end, with Draco moaning about his nose. Harry wasn’t in much better shape. The Boil Cure potion had not cleared his face as it should have. It only turned the boils on his face a sickly shade of green.

When Madam Pomfrey had finished putting a thick paste over his face, Harry sent off a letter to his parents, which was difficult with the paste sticking to his eyelashes. He hoped his arrived not long after McGonagall’s. It would be better if he could preempt any of his parent’s anger with an explanation. Malfoy really had deserved it. He didn’t feel guilty about what he had done at all. Mostly, he was just sorry he had to spend an evening in the infirmary and another evening doing detention next Saturday.

Draco had a similar paste over his nose, and was in a bed opposite Harry. Madam Pomfrey brought them both sandwiches and soup. Harry had to break his sandwich into bite-sized pieces before he could eat it, or else the paste would get all over it. Draco, at least, stopped whining to eat.

After they finished dinner, there was a gentle rapping at the hospital wing window. Harry recognized Uncle Remus’s owl and got up to open it. He reached out for the letters in it’s talons, but the owl only dropped one into his hand, and a small package, then flitted to Malfoy’s bed and dropped a second letter and package into Draco Malfoy’s lap.

Harry opened the letter first. Uncle Remus had sent him condolences about the curse and the detention. Harry was surprised by the quick response, and wondered if his parents would send a letter along tonight as well. Maybe they were too busy arguing over whether or not he had been fairly punished. He wondered if Sirius would send a letter along, too. At least Harry knew what to expect from Sirius--Congratulations.

Harry opened the package and found a single chocolate frog. He looked over at Draco’s bed and saw Malfoy had the same thing. But Malfoy was looking at the package like he’d never seen one before.

“They’re not real frogs,” Harry said.

“I know what a Chocolate Frog is, Potter,” Malfoy snapped, and proceeded to open the package.

Harry sat back down on his bed and opened his chocolate frog. It tried to leap off his bed, but he caught it before it hit the ground. He watched Malfoy break the frog into small pieces as he ate it. He wondered why Uncle Remus sent Malfoy a chocolate frog. Had Harry been unclear in his letter home what it was Malfoy had said?

“You write to Uncle Remus?” Harry asked, careful to keep suspicion out of his tone.

“I didn’t know he was your uncle.” Malfoy’s voice was sour and defensive.

“Not really--He’s a family friend.” Harry’s only uncle was a Muggle, and a rather rude one. He didn’t think it was a good idea to say that to Malfoy. “Do you have any uncles?”

“What do you care?” Malfoy grumbled and folded up the letter. Harry resisted the urge to ask what it said.

“I was just being polite. Making conversation.”

Malfoy made a disgruntled noise and ate the last pieces of his chocolate frog. He threw the card at Harry. “You collect them, right?”

“How’d you know?” Harry picked the card up and looked down at it. It was of Merlin.

“It just seems like something stupid you’d do.” Malfoy snapped.

“You don’t collect them? You could start. I’ve already got both of these. You could have them. If Uncle Remus sends you stuff, he’ll send you lots of chocolate frogs. He likes them a lot. He always--”

Harry stopped abruptly. He heard something, whispering. He tried to listen--it was quiet, faded.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

“Hear what?”

Harry paused. Then, in a clear whisper, he heard, _Come…. Come to me…._

“There! There was a voice, I heard it.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

_Let me rip you…. Let me tear you…..Let me kill you…._

The voice was chilling and terrifying. “You don’t hear that? At all?”

“I don’t hear anything,” Malfoy snapped.

Harry glared at Malfoy. He thought maybe it was Malfoy playing a stupid prank, like he had with Dobby. Making a voice and pretending not to hear it, just to scare Harry, sounded just like Malfoy.

“You’re not funny, you know,” Harry said.

Malfoy bristled. “At least I don’t look half as funny as you.”

Madam Pomfrey came to take the dinner trays before Harry could snap anything else at Malfoy. She brought them both hot tea and it made Harry drowsy. He wondered if she’d put something in it because they needed rest or if she simply wanted to avoid them fighting in the night.

In the morning, they both washed their faces and all signs of a hex were gone. Ron and Hermione were waiting to walk with Harry down to breakfast. No one was waiting for Draco.

As soon as Draco was out of earshot, Harry told Ron and Hermione about the voice.

“And Draco really didn’t hear it?” Hermione asked.

“Maybe he was just trying to make you think he couldn’t hear it. Maybe he did hear it but he wanted to scare you, like with Dobby,” Ron suggested.

“I thought that at first but….” Harry thought about the voice and how terrifying it had been. He wasn’t sure that Draco Malfoy, who had offered him a Chocolate Frog card, was capable of creating a voice that sounded that intent on murder. He shivered just remembering it. “It was scary,” he finally said as they approached the Great Hall. “That voice really wanted to kill somebody, and I don’t know why.”


	8. Deathday Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and his friends regretfully attend Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party. The Chamber of Secrets is opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1974 is the Marauders 4th year at Hogwarts, Regulus's 3rd. October 2nd 1974 is coincidentally the day after a full moon.

Dear Harry,

McGonagall wrote to inform us of your detention. You know we don’t approve of you dueling at school. It’s dangerous, and while we hope you’re feeling much better, we also hope you learned your lesson. We’ll talk about the situation and your Nimbus 2001 when when you come home for Christmas.

Love,

Mum and Dad

\--- --- ---

Dear Sirius,

Please don’t come to our Quidditch game this year. It’s going to be awful. Malfoy’s the new Seeker, which really doesn’t worry me, except his father bought the entire Slytherin team Nimbus 2001s, and Mum and Dad won’t buy me one until summer (and that’s even IF they do because of the detention last week). It’s going to be so bad. And all our practices are going to be miserable because it hasn’t stopped raining for weeks. And everyone’s getting the flu. Even Ginny, and I’m afraid she’s going to give it to Fred and George. We’d lose our match for sure.

I even got in trouble coming in from Quidditch practice just because I was dirty. What was I supposed to do, shower in the Great Hall? It’s okay, I didn’t get another detention. I’m not sure I could stand polishing the trophy hall again, or another session addressing fanmail for Lockhart. Peeves dropped a vanishing cabinet, so Filch kind of forgot to assign the detention. Which wouldn’t have been a fair detention anyway. But now I’ve accidentally agreed to go to a deathday party. That might be worse than a detention.

I hope the weather’s better there. I’m getting really tired of mud and flying in the rain. And if you feel like sending our team a set of Nimbus 2001s, that would be pretty great too.

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

Sorry about the weather. It’s been pretty gloomy here too. And I’m sorry to hear about the Slytherin team. I did look into buying brooms for your team, but it turns out my inheritance has shrunk a lot over the years. And then your mom found out and yelled at me for “undermining her and your father’s authority.”

But I wouldn’t worry about it too much. A Nimbus 2001 can’t make up for a terrible player. And if it took Malfoy buying the whole team Nimbus 2001s to get on the team, he can’t be a very good seeker. You’ll be fine.

And I always wanted to go to a deathday party, just to see what it was like. The castle ghosts are pretty creepy-interesting, if you know what I mean. Let me know how it goes.

Love,

Sirius

\--- --- ---

Dear Mum and Dad,

Okay, you don’t have to send me a Nimbus 2001, but what if you just sent the Gryffindor team three Nimbus 2001s? Just for our Chasers? Maybe one for Oliver Wood, too? He is team captain. It’s just totally unfair, and we’re going to lose the game all because Draco Malfoy’s family spoils him rotten.

We’re going to lose the match in two weeks and it’s going to be so bad. You guys probably shouldn’t even come. It’s not going to be worth it.

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

You’re going to be wonderful in the Quidditch game. I’m sure of it. Your father and I can’t wait to see you, so of course we’ll go and support you. I’m sure you’re a much better flier than Draco Malfoy, and you’re a far more experienced Seeker, so you’ll do wonderfully.

It wouldn’t be fair of us to buy brooms for your team, just as it wasn’t fair for Mr. Malfoy to do it for Slytherin.

Love,

Mum and Dad

\--- --- ---

_October 2, 1974_

_Dear Narcissa,_

_Congratulations on your engagement! Mother wrote to me to tell me, and I was ever so excited to receive the engagement announcement. I’m quite happy for you._

_I have some news that might sound unfortunate, but it’s actually quite humorous._

_Professor Binns died today. But he just walked into class like normal--well, he floated in, because he was a ghost! And he just started lecturing as if nothing happened. We were all whispering to each other and he told us to be quiet and carried on with his lecture. I don’t think he even knew he was dead._

_Barty went to get Professor Slughorn, and then Professor Slughorn didn’t know what to do. You know how he is when he feels like something’s out of his depth (which is a lot, isn’t it?). So he went and got Professor McGonagall, and then Professor McGonagall went for Headmaster Dumbledore. It was actually quite humorous to watch it all._

_And then when Headmaster Dumbledore arrived, it was the funniest thing. He looked at Professor Binns, smiled, and said something like, “Well, he seems to be teaching just fine.”_

_Professor Dumbledore is a strange one, isn’t he? Mother and Father don’t like him much. Sirius seems to think he’s just fine, and last time I brought up something Mother said about him, Sirius got all defensive about it. I don’t understand why. What has Professor Dumbledore ever done for Sirius? And he was in such a foul mood today, fussing over his friend--the faint sickly one--and he kept giving me and Sev dirty looks. I don’t know what Sev did to his friend, and Sev didn’t seem to know either. He and Mother are both so moody I don’t know how to handle it._

_But anyway, I presume they’ll still have funeral services for Professor Binns. I wonder if he will attend? That would be quite interesting._

_Do let me know if there is anything I can help with for your wedding this summer! I’m so excited for you. And it’s nice to hear Auntie is happy. I think it will help her get over what happened with Drommie._

_Love,_

_Regulus_

\--- --- ---

Dear Remus, 

I accidentally accepted an invitation to Nearly Headless Nick’s deathday party. It might have been the worst thing ever. It wasn’t a party, it was a funeral. What’s the point?

Was Moaning Myrtle there when you were in school? She’s the actual worst. Hermione said that one of the bathrooms is completely unusable because of her. I just ask because she was wearing school robes, instead of fancy medieval clothes like most of the other ghosts. What even makes a ghost? Not everyone becomes a ghost, so how does it work?

Love,

Harry

P.S. You’re writing letters to Draco Malfoy? Why? Please don’t. He’s awful.

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

I’m sorry you went to a deathday party. I hope it was at least an educational experience on the social norms of ghosthood.

Upon one’s death, it is possible to become a ghost. But it is not very common. One must be absolutely unwilling to die, so terrified by the sheer thought of death that they consciously refuse to move on. I spoke with Sir Nicholas about this once, but of course ghosts don’t like to talk about it. He was very gracious with my situation and explained it quite kindly. It is not, to my understanding, a fate you would wish on someone. Ghosthood is a worse fate than death, and it is far better to move on past this life than to linger.

As for Draco, I can write to whomever I wish to write to. You should not be so quick to judge someone because of their sorting or their blood status, or which Quidditch team they play for.

Love,

Remus Lupin

\--- --- ---

Dear Sirius,

Please please please don’t tell Mum and Dad. I’m not in trouble, but I know they’ll worry and get upset and I don’t want them to.

But I’ve been hearing a voice at Hogwarts. It’s kind of a cold, deep, terrifying voice that says it wants to kill and is out for blood. No one else seems to hear it. And I think it has something to do with the Chamber of Secrets. Do you know what that is? Malfoy seems to know something about it. I think it’s a pureblood thing. But I’ve never heard Mum or Dad talk about it, and I’m afraid to ask them. You know how they get when weird stuff happens to me, and especially after that thing with the house elf, I think they’re more worried than usual. So please don’t tell them. Or Uncle Remus, because he will definitely tell them. And I don’t want them to freak out. Just, tell me if you know anything about it or not.

Love,

Harry

P.S. The deathday party was gross and you weren’t missing anything.


	9. The Writing on the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware.

Dear Lily and James Potter,

I’m writing to inform you about an incident at the school that your son may or may not have been involved in.

No one was hurt, but a very serious threat was made against Muggle-born students at the school. I do not believe Harry is the perpetrator of this threat, but I do believe he is hiding something about the incident from the Headmaster and from myself. I was wondering if he has spoken to you at all about what has been happened at school.

I would appreciate a prompt response so we can get to the bottom of this matter quickly.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

I won’t tell your Mum and Dad anything you don’t want me to, but I do think they ought to know what is happening. It sounds serious, and you should tell a teacher.

If you’re afraid to tell Remus something because you’re worried he will pass the information along to your parents, that probably means you should tell your parents. Remus is a good secret keeper, but he’s also a very good judge of when it’s important to stop keeping secrets.

And also, if I’m telling you to tell your parents, you should definitely think about telling your parents. But that’s a choice that’s really up to you.

Love,

Sirius

\--- --- ---

Mr. Lupin,

What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy

\--- --- ---

Draco Malfoy,

The legend of the Chamber of Secrets is an intriguing myth. I’m surprised you wouldn’t ask one of the older students in your house, or Professor Snape. They might have knowledge I wouldn’t, but I can tell you the story that would be written down in a collection of stories about Hogwarts.

Over a thousand years ago, there were four great witches and wizards. Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin. These four wizards agreed that a school for magic should be founded to teach a new generation about magic, and so they created Hogwarts. Unfortunately, the four disagreed on what students they ought to teach. Godric Gryffindor wanted to teach magic only to the bravest of wizards. Rowena Ravenclaw wished only to teach the most intelligent of wizards. Helga Hufflepuff wanted to teach those who were hard workers, no matter their talent. And Salazar Slytherin wished to teach those who were of noble birth, those who only had magical blood in their family tree.

The Sorting Hat was created by the four founders so that each wizard’s wishes for education could continue in their absence. This is why those who seek courage go to Gryffindor, those who value wisdom go to Ravenclaw, those who pursue ambition and success go to Slytherin, and the rest go to Hufflepuff, because anyone who is willing to learn is accepted into her house. The Sorting Hat does not even sort by blood. You might be surprised to know that not everyone in Slytherin has been pure-blooded. Morgan le Fay is the first famous Slytherin half-blood that comes to mind.

However, Slytherin was most adamant about only teaching magic to those children with magical parents. Legend says that he created a secret chamber within the castle. Inside, he sealed a monster that only his heir could control. And someday, Slytherin’s heir would return to the castle and open the chamber, and the monster inside the chamber would purge the castle of students Salazar Slytherin deemed unworthy. Meaning, the heir of Slytherin would eliminate any witches or wizards who were not of pure-blood descent.

But this last part of the story has been passed along for so long, I’m sure it’s largely an exaggeration of a threat Slytherin made at his death. Merlin himself was unable to find the Chamber, and I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that he was one of Slytherin’s greatest students. Sometimes when stories get retold, they get exaggerated. It’s important to get as close as you can to a source for the truth.

More importantly, how are your classes going? I hope the Chocolate Frog didn’t get away from you. I’m afraid I’m not usually quick enough if they manage to jump far enough away from me. As a Seeker, I imagine you do better at catching them than I might.

I’ve heard your Defense Against the Dark Arts class is… interesting. Please let me know if you have any questions.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin

\--- --- ---

_April 7, 1979_

_Dear Regulus,_

_I’m so glad you’ll be coming with us to Paris next week for your spring holiday. And I know your mother and father are very excited for you to join us as well._

_Unfortunately, Narcissa still hasn’t recovered from her illness, and won’t be able to join us. I’m afraid she’s taking the loss rather hard. Our mother is even staying with her for a few days longer. I know you were looking forward to seeing her, but perhaps we will be able to visit her before you return to school._

_And Rodolphus told me that you and Rabastan got along well at our wedding, so I’m sure the four of us will have a wonderful time._

_Now that all your older cousins are paired off, it might be about time you started thinking about marriage--you are the heir to the house, and it’s important for you to choose a suitable wife. Rodolphus said he has a cousin Filipa who would love to show you and Rabastan around Paris. I know you’ve already seen it, but if you could pretend not to, for her sake, it would be in everyone’s best interest. Your graduation is still a few months away, but you know your mother won’t let you go for very long without any marriage prospects. At least have names you can give her to keep her pleased for the time being._

_I’ve also arranged for you to meet_ him _. Rodolphus and I are very close to our fearless leader. I don’t mean to boast, but it is true. And you’re so very lucky we get to introduce you to him. I daresay Filipa will be quite impressed with you. And who wouldn’t? Our family has always been one of the greatest magical families._

_You truly could have any girl you wanted, and if you ever need some help snaring one, I’ve got plenty of influence, if your name alone isn’t enough._

_Rodolphus and I will be waiting for you at the train station, and we’ll go straight to Paris, so be ready to leave then. I can’t wait. We’ll have so much fun together._

_Love,_

_Bellatrix_

_P.S. Lucius said he loaned you one of his books about the dangers of mixing blood. I’d be happy to talk to you about it if you have any questions. It should prepare you for the sorts of conversations we’ll have in Paris. You’ve always been a wonderful conversationalist, and I’m sure your skills will be put to good use in the coming months._

\--- --- ---

Dear Mum,

I think something is wrong but I really don’t want you to tell Dad about it, please?

Something happened at school, and I don’t know if they told the parents or not. It wasn’t anything serious, really. No one got hurt at least. Except Mrs. Norris, but Dumbledore said she would be fine as soon as the mandrakes grow. And no one misses her anyway.

Someone made a sign that said that says, “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.” And Draco Malfoy said the m-word again, and that they were  
“next”--I think he meant they would get hurt like Mrs. Norris got hurt.

Percy said the Chamber of Secrets isn’t real, and it was probably just somebody playing a joke. But still, everyone seems really scared. Even Ginny, but the Weasley’s are pure-blooded, aren’t they?

I told Sirius I was hearing voices in the walls that no one else was hearing. He told me I should definitely tell you about it. But I don’t want to tell Dad about it because...

The voice I heard led me to the writing on the wall, and I never told you guys, but when I got sorted, the Sorting Hat told me I would be really good in Slytherin. It only put me in Gryffindor because I asked to be in Gryffindor. And I’m… I’m scared.

I know you said it didn’t matter what house I would be sorted into, but what if I was the heir of Slytherin? I don’t think I would hurt anybody because of whether or not they have magical parents, but what if it doesn’t matter, and the heir of Slytherin is just chosen?

It’s probably nothing. It’s probably a stupid prank.

But the teachers are acting like it’s serious. I don’t know.

Just don’t tell Dad about me almost going into Slytherin. I don’t think he’d like it. And especially don’t tell Sirius.

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

Your father and I love you very much, and there is nothing in the world that could change that. Absolutely nothing.

I know you don’t like it when we worry about you, but we worry about you because we love you. It’s our job as parents to be worried, and it’s only a testament to your unfailing kindness that you worry about us. But please don’t worry over us. And never worry that we could stop loving you for anything.

I’m afraid I can’t say how serious the situation at school is. If you have been withholding important information from your teachers, you should share it with them. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall are wonderful teachers, and you can trust them as much as you trust your father and I.

I’m sure you’re not going to hurt anyone, Harry. You are a wonderful person, who cares about others, and I’m sure you’d never hurt someone because of an absurd prejudice.

Never ever forget how much you are loved, Harry. You can always tell your father and I anything.

Love,

Mum

\--- --- ---

Dear Sirius,

Percy’s being a downright git about everything, and I’m really tired of it. Was Uncle Remus this bad when he was a prefect? Percy docked us five points just because Ron got mad at him. Sure, we were in the girls’ bathroom, but there weren’t any girls in there. Just Hermione. We were only talking to Moaning Myrtle about why she flooded the bathroom. She made the hallway so wet, I’m pretty sure she scared the castle spiders off or something.

But we tried to explain to Percy what we were doing, and he told us we look suspicious, which is stupid. And Ron just said Percy was stressed because he thought if Ron got in trouble Percy wouldn’t make Head Boy (which is so STUPID) and then Percy docked our house points. His own house! Please tell me Uncle Remus was never like that. 

I know he’s really worried about Ginny, because she’s been upset, but he doesn’t have to take it out on me and Ron and Hermione. He should take it out on Draco Malfoy.

Hermione has a plan to get Draco Malfoy in trouble, anyway. We should be able to prove he’s the one behind all these stupid pranks. So at least we have that to look forward to.

I guess I’ll see you at the Quidditch match next week. But I’m really sure we’re going to lose.

Love,

Harry

P.S. I told Mum about the voice and she said I should tell Professor McGonagall. I haven’t yet. I’m kind of afraid to. She can be scary when she is angry.

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

I’m glad you told your mum about what you were hearing. And believe me, I know first hand how scary McGonagall can be. But she’s also the kindest, most caring woman you will ever meet, and the best Transfiguration teacher in the world. She does care about all of her students, even if she pretends not to.

And no, Remus was never that bad. He threatened to take house points but didn’t do it very often.

I take it back. There was one time he was really bad about abusing his prefect powers. It was sixth year, week before the House Cup match against Slytherin, and your dad was especially stressed and therefore more troublesome. Remus and James got into it and Remus started docking points for every little thing--like forgetting his quill in History of Magic or tripping Barty Crouch in the hallway--and then daring James to win them all back in the Quidditch match. It was the fiercest game I’ve ever seen James play. And thinking about it now, the whole thing must’ve been hilarious, but we were all really unhappy with each other for a couple weeks.

And stop worrying about your Quidditch match. Malfoys are historically terrible Seekers, I promise. You’ll be fine.

Love,

Sirius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is Quidditch, so we'll get a nice break from the letters. I haven't said it for a while, but as always, headcanons and criticisms are always appreciated.


	10. The Rogue Bludger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's first Quidditch game of the year--nearly killed by a Bludger. What will his parents do about that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said that The Chamber of Secrets would be a lot of letter writing because not a lot changed? Well, this chapter marks a huge deviation from canon, and I really hope you guys enjoy this shift better, because I will have a lot of fun writing it. Also, you might see more Snape development than previously anticipated!

Lockhart’s classes had gotten worse than the Pixies. They were about as boring as Professor Binn’s lectures, and for Harry, at least, they were twice as embarrassing.

After the disaster with the Pixies, Lockhart had proceeded to teach only by reading passages from his books, and occasionally he would ask for a volunteer to reenact dramatic fights with him. Of course, Harry didn’t need to volunteer because Lockhart called on him every single time, no matter how many times Harry said no.

Harry’d used lots of excuses--”My throat’s sore from the screaming last time,” or, “I caught a cold in Quididtch practice yesterday,” or, “Why don’t you ever ask Ron to do it?”--and sometimes they worked. Today, however, Hermione told him he needed to play along without protest. They needed Lockhart to be in a good mood for their plan to work.

Harry was ready to reenact a ghoul banishing, or a moderate household pest escalated to the level of a Shakespearean drama. He was not, however, ready for Lockhart to open up _Wanderings with Werewolves_ and begin reading.

He inevitably called Harry to the front of the class to play the part of the werewolf. Harry cast a glance at Hermione who gave him an encouraging nod. He tried not to groan as he got to his feet.

“Nice loud howl, Harry,” Gilderoy said--Harry growled--”No, a howl, Harry.” Harry mimicked a pitiful wolf howl, and Lockhart moved on. “Exactly, and then, if you’ll believe it, I pounced--like this--” He leaped at Harry. “--slammed him to the floor--” And Harry dropped, face red with embarrassment and fury, “--thus, and with one hand, I managed to hold him down--with my other, I put my wand to his throat--I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm--he let out a piteous moan--go on, Harry--”

But Harry could keep quiet no more. He pushed Gilderoy off him and got to his feet. “You can’t hold a werewolf down with one hand! It would bite your hand off. And the Homorphus Charm doesn’t work on werewolves! Everyone knows the proper way to treat a werewolf is with a Wolfsbane Potion.”

Hermione looked like she might throw her book at him. The rest of the class sat in shock. If they had been bored before, they were paying attention now. No one had undermined Lockhart’s authority like this. But before Lockhart could tell Harry to sit down, or correct him, the bell rang.

Gilderoy Lockhart got to his feet and dusted off his robes. “Homework--compose a poem about my very accurate and true defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!”

The class left with a quiet murmur, but Hermione lingered until everyone was gone. Ron and Harry waited at the door.

Hermione nervously approached Lockhart’s desk. “Professor Lockhart, er, I was trying to understand what you say in _Gadding with Ghouls_ about slow-acting venoms, and--”

He sighed heavily. “And is my other favorite student about to tell me how venom from ghouls cures boils and burns?”

“No, not at all, I thought your defeat of the ghouls was clever and wonderful, really, especially with the tea-strainer,” Hermione said, and Lockhart seemed to perk up a bit at this praise. “I found a book that would help me understand it better, but it’s in the Restricted Section of the library, so I was wondering if--”

“Anything to help out the best student of the year,” Professor Lockhart said, and signed the parchment without even looking at it.

“Th-thank you,” Hermione said, and quickly went to rejoin Harry and Ron.

“That easy?” Ron said as they walked to the library. “Really, Hermione, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“I can’t believe he actually said the Homorphus Charm would cure a werewolf,” Harry seethed. “No Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher should say that. I can just imagine what my Mum and Dad would say if they knew how awful he really was.”

“Your parents are Order of Merlin, aren’t they?” Ron whispered as Hermione handed the permission slip to Madam Pince. “Ask your dad to teach.”

“No way,” Harry whispered back. “My dad would be so annoying as a teacher. You think Lockhart plays favorites? I know my dad would try to come to all my Quidditch practices, and be in the dorm all the time--no way. I’m not asking my dad to teach.” Harry did love his father, but Sirius and James wanted to be so involved in Harry’s life that he thought having them at school would be something of a nightmare.

“You’ve got to ask him though,” Ron said, as Hermione led them to the location of _Moste Potente Potions_.

“He’d want to know what we were doing all the time,” Harry sighed. “He’d want to know why we had this book, what we were doing with it. He’d probably offer to turn into Snape and go with us!”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Ron laughed.

But Hermione wrinkled her nose. “He sounds like a terrible teacher.”

Harry nodded. “He’s only good when Mum’s around to make sure he acts like a grown-up.”

“He can’t possibly be worse than Professor Lockhart,” Ron said as they took the potions book out of the library.

Harry shrugged. “Well, if you’re so sure, you can ask him yourself tomorrow.”

\--- --- ---

When tomorrow did arrive, Harry was not excited. He stayed in bed for thirty minutes wondering if there was anyway to save himself the embarrassment of losing to Malfoy. He saw no way out of it other than to get it over with.

He nibbled at his breakfast, while Ron asked all kinds of questions about how much Harry’s parents knew about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Apparently, he was quite set on asking them to teach, despite Harry’s warnings.

And on the other side of Harry, Hermione was making a list of all the things they would need in a Polyjuice Potion.

Ron paused in his questions and leaned over to look at Hermione’s notebook. “Bits of whoever we’re turning into? How do you imagine we’ll get our hands on that?”

But Hermione’s response was interrupted by Sirius’s shout from the entrance of the Great Hall 

“Harry!”

Harry’s ears disappeared into his shoulders.

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said encouragingly, and stood up.

With his heart in his stomach, Harry got up from the table. Hermione and Ron walked with him to greet his parents, Uncle Remus, and Sirius, then they walked down to the Quidditch pitch together.

“Are you feeling alright, Harry?” Lily asked as they walked. She pressed a concerned hand to Harry’s forehead.

“I’m alright,” he mumbled and pushed her hand away.

“You’ll be great,” James said and squeezed his shoulder.

Harry made a vague sort of “Hm” that was neither assured nor disappointed as he went off to change into his Quidditch robes. As he was walking away, he heard Ron ask, “So, you guys are all Order of Merlin, right?”

In the locker room, Wood gave his usual speech about how this had to be the year they won. George whined about it raining again, and Harry morosely fitted his braces onto his arms before they walked onto the pitch. It was raining, but it was only a light drizzle. Nothing to limit their ability to play.

Finally, there was one thing that made Harry less sure of their impending loss and more determined than ever to win, and that was seeing Draco’s arrogant smirk as the teams mounted their brooms. It made Harry so furious that he felt finally prepared to give this game his all and make everyone see that Draco was a terrible Seeker, Nimbus 2001 or no.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the players kicked off the ground.

Harry went straight up, prepared to keep an eye for the Snitch from a distance. Malfoy shot under him, more interested in showing off the speed of his broom than finding the Snitch first.

“Alright there, Scarhead?” Malfoy taunted over his shoulder as he passed Harry.

Before Harry could thinking of a quick-witted retort, a Bludger came straight for him, and he barely managed to get out of its path.

“Close one, Harry!” George sped by and knocked the Beater back at Slytherin. It traveled a few yards from the force of the bat, but came whizzing right back at Harry.

Harry ducked under it, and George tried knocking it at Malfoy, but again the Bludger came right back at Harry.

Harry zipped towards the other end of the field, and he could hear the Bludger zooming straight for him. He went past Fred, who intercepted it and knocked it away, but again it went back for Harry.

“Is it supposed to be doing that?” Lily asked James.

“No,” James frowned, “it’s been charmed somehow.”

“We should stop the game,” Sirius said. “It’s cheating.”

“You saw the box opened and the game started. No Slytherins have touched that Bludger.” James shook his head. “It’s not right, but there’s no foul to call. Can’t say I even know what charm to use to stop it.”

“We could just explode it,” Sirius suggested.

“Or try Finite,” Remus said.

“If you want to be boring about it,” and Sirius shrugged.

Remus got up to tell Madam Hooch to stop the game, but James grabbed his arm. “We can’t interfere with the match. One of the teams could call for an inquiry, but it would forfeit the match. We can’t ask Harry to do that.”

“Of course we can,” Lily snapped, and gasped as Harry made a particularly sharp dive to avoid the bludger. “That thing will kill him.”

“No one’s died in Quidditch,” James said, though he sounded at least a little nervous.

“Not since the early nineteenth century, anyway,” Sirius said.

Lily looked about ready to leap onto the Quidditch pitch, so James quickly said, “Not because of the game--it was an entirely unrelated incident with the trees storming the stadium.” And he shot Sirius a stern glare for stirring up Lily.

On the field, Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to find the Snitch if he had to dodge the Bludger the whole time, but it wasn’t letting up. He’d told Fred and George to back off--they couldn’t keep it off him anyway, so they might as well defend the team from the other Bludger. But between the rain and the nauseating turns he had to keep up in order to avoid the rogue Bludger, there was no time to look for the Snitch.

“Training for the ballet, Potter?” Malfoy taunted after Harry finished a particularly complicated spin to dodge the Bludger.

Harry took a moment to glare at Malfoy as the Bludger whistled past him. And then--he couldn’t believe it--flitting right over Malfoy’s laughing head was the Snitch. But how to dive for it without alerting Malfoy it was there?

His split second pause was a mistake. The Bludger slammed into his arm. He could see Malfoy laughing at him, but he couldn’t hear anything through the intense pain in his arm. He thought he might pass out, but he rallied what focus he could. He had to get that Snitch.

He shot forward at Malfoy, holding his hurt arm against his chest. Malfoy misinterpreted the sudden approach as an attack and dove out of the way. Harry stretched out his good arm and grabbed the Snitch. Then his broom skidded to the ground and he laid down in the mud beneath the rain.

When Harry managed to open his eyes again, he expected Madam Hooch, or Oliver Wood, or even his parents over him, but instead he saw Professor Lockhart. Even though he wanted to pass out again, he tried to sit up.

“No, not you. Where’s Sirius?” Sirius was the best at healing spells. Or Madam Pomfrey. Anyone but Lockhart. He looked around for help, but most of the Quidditch team was helping Fred and George wrestle the Bludger back into the box.

“Not to worry,” Lockhart said. “I’m only going to fix your arm.”

“It’s fine, thanks,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“We can take him to Madam Pomfrey,” Oliver Wood said, and dropped his broom.

“No need, just lie back, Harry. It’s a simple charm I’ve done countless times.”

Even his mother wasn’t very good with healing spells, so Harry knew they were anything but simple. He was about to very angrily tell Lockhart to go away, when he heard the click of Colin’s camera.

“Colin, please stop. Professor--where are my parents?”

“They’re coming,” Angelina said, and Alicia helped him sit up.

“Stand back, everyone,” Lockhart said. Harry tried to say no again, but Lockhart twirled his wand and he felt a strange tingling sensation in his arm. The crowd gasped, and Harry didn’t dare look down. It didn’t hurt--he didn’t feel anything, actually, but he didn’t want to know what everyone was gasping at.

“That can sometimes happen,” Lockhart said. “The important thing is--”

And then he heard his mother. “Harry! Harry, are you alright--oh!” It was a cry of alarm he knew well, from his injuries when he was younger, and an anger in it he also knew well--usually aimed at his father or Sirius.

He opened his eyes and saw Sirius punch Gilderoy Lockhart in the face.

Then Remus grabbed Sirius and said, “You can’t go around punching people! Do you want to end up in Azkaban?”

“It’s not a crime to punch idiots in the face!” Sirius growled. “Look at Harry’s arm!”

Harry looked down at his arm and thought he was going to be sick. His arm was as limp as a rubber glove. The bone wasn’t broken anymore--there were no bones at all.

“The important thing,” Lockhart said, holding his nose, “is that Harry isn’t in pain anymore. I just couldn’t bear to see how hurt he was, and had to do something immediately.”

“You’re an absolute idiot!” Lily shouted. “How dare you! How dare you try to treat my son when you’re only a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, when there are plenty more qualified wizards nearby, when his family is nearby--Who do you think you are?!”

James gently took her arm and tried to lead her away, but she refused to stand down.

Gilderoy Lockhart looked like a woman had never yelled at him in his life. “Madam,” he tried in an appealing tone, which also had an oddly stuffed sound to it, because his nose was dripping blood, “I understand you’re upset, but I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award. I assure you that I am perfectly qualified to perform a simple healing spell on a broken arm.”

“Oh, is that what you did? Simply healed my son’s arm? How would you like me to vanish all the bones in your nose off?” Lily pulled out her wand, and Harry seemed quite sure his mother would hex his professor. He had no complaints about this.

James grabbed Lily’s arm again, very aware that Colin was still snapping photos and Dumbledore had arrived on the Quidditch pitch, lead by Professor McGonagall.

“Lily,” he said quietly, “I think we ought to get Harry to the hospital wing.”

This seemed to be the only thing that brought any sense back into Lily. “Yes. Right.” She seemed mildly apologetic as she put her wand back into her robes, but her fury remained untempered. Harry was a little disappointed in his father for stopping her. He would’ve loved to see Lockhart without a nose.

Sirius leaned close and whispered into Lily’s ear, “And, for future reference, there are no bones in the nose.”

\--- --- ---

Lily did not end up walking Harry to the hospital wing after all. She had a few more words with Dumbledore, who, realizing the publicity of the situation and the volume of her anger, calmly lead her away to his office, and motioned for an unusually sheepish Lockhart to follow. James and Sirius went along to keep Lily from getting violent, which meant that it was Remus who walked Harry to the infirmary along with Ron and Hermione.

That left Remus, Hermione, Ron, and Harry to listen to Madam Pomfrey’s tirade, which was arguably easier to listen to than Lily’s.

“You should have come straight to me!” she said furiously. “I can mend bones in a second--but growing them back--it’ll be painful. You’ll have to stay the night.” She set a pair of pajamas on the bed for Harry, then disappeared into her office. Ron drew the curtains around the bed and Uncle Remus helped Harry into his pajamas, since it was rather impossible to do with one arm.

“Can’t stick up for Lockhart anymore, eh, Hermione?” Ron said as he helped Remus pull Harry’s limp arm through the pajama sleeve.

“Professor Lockhart,” Remus corrected automatically, but even he sounded like he thought the title was ill-placed, and Harry laughed.

He did not laugh, however, when Madam Pomfrey gave him a cup of Skele-Gro. It was disgusting, and he nearly spit it out. After choking it down, he quickly gulped down a glass of water.

The Quidditch team came in to celebrate, with sweets and pumpkin juice, which perked Harry up, until Madam Pomfrey came storming through.

“This boy needs rest. He’s got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!” And Ron and Hermione were shooed off with the rest of the Quidditch team, leaving only Uncle Remus behind, laughing quietly.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked.

“When I spent days in the hospital, your father and Sirius and Peter all came to keep me company. They probably made enough noise for an entire Quidditch team.”

This reminded Harry of Lockhart’s lesson the previous afternoon, and he shared the story with Remus, who frowned.

“Yes, he was highly inaccurate, but you didn’t need to make a scene about it, Harry.”

“He was wrong! He’s a terrible teacher. Ron says Dad should be our teacher.”

“Goodness, no,” Remus laughed. “He and Sirius would be equally awful teachers.”

Harry and Remus laughed together about this for a moment, just until Harry’s parents arrived. They did not look very happy with each other, but Sirius looked thrilled. Harry couldn’t imagine what had happened in Dumbledore’s office.

“How do you feel?” his mother asked, and Remus stood so Lily could sit.

“I don’t feel anything yet,” he said. “Did you hex Lockhart?”

“Professor Lockhart,” Remus corrected wearily.

And Sirius burst out laughing. “Not anymore.”

“You got him fired?” Harry asked in shock.

Lily sighed heavily. “Not exactly.”

“It was brilliant,” Sirius said. “Your mum was incredible. She scolded Lockhart all over again, embarrassing him in front of Dumbledore, and then scolded Dumbledore for hiring him in the first place, and demanded Dumbledore hire someone else. And then Dumbledore told her, in his quiet and calm Dumbledore way--” Sirius put on a very solemn and serious face “--‘There were no other applicants for the position, but if you’d be willing to fill it, you are more than welcome to.’ And Lockhart looked so furious!” Sirius started laughing so loudly, Madam Pomfrey came to kick him out, which only amused him more.

“Getting kicked out of the hospital wing? I would never,” he laughed.

Madam Pomfrey was not amused. “You’re more harm to my patients than you are helpful, if I remember correctly, Mr. Black.”

“I’ll keep him out of trouble, as usual.” Remus smiled gently, and led Sirius into the hallway, leaving Harry alone with his parents.

Harry stared at his mother. “You said you’d do it? You said yes?”

James folded his arms over his chest. “I told her not to. I told her she didn’t have to.”

“It’ll be fine,” Lily said and held onto Harry’s good hand. “Lockhart won’t be leaving. He’ll be staying on as an advisor, and of course I’ll need to use his books as the foundation for the coursework, even if they are terrible, but I can’t ask the students to get new ones. Really, James, if you don’t want me to stay, convince Remus to take the position.”

“He wouldn’t,” James sighed, and twisted his wedding band around his finger. “What am I supposed to do for the next seven months by myself?”

Lily gave an exasperated sigh and counted each task off on her fingers. “You could clean the house, take care of the garden, take care of Remus’s potion, make that practice Quidditch pitch you’ve been talking about for years, practice cooking since you dislike mine so much--honestly, there are a million and one things you can do. You’re being overly dramatic.”

James did not seem to think he was being overly dramatic. “What about Christmas?”

“You can come here for Christmas.”

“What about Valentine’s Day?”

“You can write a letter. I’m sure it will be lovely.”

“What about Easter?”

“James, really, you can visit on weekends. We’ll take Saturday trips into Hogsmeade. You could even buy a cottage there if you wanted to.”

That was the only suggestion that seemed to mollify James at all.

Around dinner time, Madam Pomfrey asked them to let Harry sleep. Lily kissed Harry’s forehead and told him she would see him in class Monday afternoon.

Harry was only allowed a bit of chicken broth for dinner. Solid food was not good for the bone regrowing process, so Madam Pomfrey said. After his broth and tea, Harry fell asleep surprisingly quickly. It had been a long and exhausting day.

He awoke in the middle of the night to a sharp pain in his arm and a house-elf sponging his forehead.

“Get off!” he said, and then he recognized the large eyes and sniveling house-elf. “Dobby? What are you doing here?”

“Harry Potter came back to school,” Dobby said sadly. “Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah, sir, why didn’t you heed Dobby? Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master’s dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir….”

As Dobby sobbed into the filthy tea cloth, Harry sighed and leaned back onto his pillows. “I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving.”

“Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make--”

Harry sat back up suddenly. “Your Bludger? You made that Bludger to try and kill me?”

“Not kill you, sir!” Dobby wailed. “Never kill you! Dobby only wanted to save Harry Potter’s life! Better to be sent home, grievously injured, than to remain here, sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

Dobby sobbed into his tea cloth again. “If only Harry Potter knew what he meant to us, the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world. Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir. We house-elves were treated like vermin. Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir, but mostly life has improved for my kind, since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord’s power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shown like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, sir…. And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are about to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more--”

Dobby froze, suddenly. He’d said too much, so he grabbed Harry’s water basin and smashed it against his head. Harry looked frantically to Madam Pomfrey’s office, but there was no movement. He needed answers, fast.

“Tell me, Dobby, what do you know about the Chamber of Secrets? Who opened it before?”

“Ask no more of Dobby, sir, please. Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen. Go home, Harry Potter, please.”

“If you can’t tell me,” Harry said, and winced as he tried to move his arm, “is there another house-elf who can? Another house-elf who remembers when Volde--” Dobby looked terrified, so Harry quickly corrected himself, “--He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was in power?”

“There are many house-elves who still remember,” Dobby said, and sniffled, “but many of them are not free.”

“Do you know about a house-elf named Kreacher? He was supposed to help You-Know-Who with something a long time ago. I read about it in a letter. Is it about the Chamber of Secrets?”

“Kreacher serves the house of Black,” Dobby said, “but I do not know if he is free to speak. His masters are--”

Dobby froze again, and Harry wondered if he was about to hit himself again, but instead, there were footsteps in the hallway outside the infirmary.

“Dobby must go!” and then there was a crack as the house-elf apparated away.

Harry sighed and fell back into his pillows. He’d been so close to answers. He would have to look more closely at the book Sirius had given him as soon as he got out of the hospital.

The door opened suddenly, and Dumbledore and McGonagall carried in what looked like a statue. They set it on the bed and then Professor McGongall disappeared into Madam Pomfrey’s room.

Harry pretended to be asleep, and heard Madam Pomfrey whisper, “What happened?”

“Another attack,” said Dumbledore. “Minerva found him on the stairs.”

Harry lifted his head as much as he dared to see who it was. His heart sank into his stomach. Little Colin Creevey was lying on the bed, camera pressed against his face.

“Petrified?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Professor McGonagall said. “You don’t think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?”

Harry heard the pop of the camera backing, and then smelled the burnt film and the hissing of steam.

“Goodness gracious,” Madam Pomfrey said. “It’s melted. What does this mean?”

“It means,” Dumbledore said calmly, “that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again.”

“Who would do such a thing?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“The question is not who, but how.”

Harry bit down on his lip as the pain in his arm increased, and he knew he had to get answers. If he couldn’t get them out of Dobby, he would get them out of his book, and if he couldn’t get them out of his book, he would get them out of Kreacher. Even if he had to ask Sirius Black for help.

_June 28, 1976_

_Dear Regulus,_

_I spoke to my mother, and asked her to calm Auntie Walburga down. She said she would talk to her, but my father and your mother seem to be quite firm in their decision. Uncle Alphard has tried to speak on Sirius’s behalf as well, but it sounds like Auntie is ready to blast him off the tree too if he says much more._

_I’m so sorry. I know you must feel how I felt when we lost Drommie. But we’ll carry on. We’re the youngest ones and it seems that we must bear the burdens of our older siblings’ mistakes. I remember how hard it was to be at home right after we lost Drommie, and you’re welcome to spend your summer holiday with Lucius and I. The manor is positively splendid, and there’s an entire farm of peacocks I’ve been dying to show you. They’re beautiful creatures._

_Don’t worry about Sirius too much. Family sticks together, and if he refuses to stay, he isn’t family. I know it’s hard to hear, but the sooner you can accept that, the easier the loss will be to bear._

_I’ll write a formal invitation for you. Lucius is hardly home--his work in the ministry keeps him so busy--but he’s quite the conversationalist when he is home. And Bella loves to stop by. It would be wonderful to have you. Please accept the invitation._

_Love,_

_Narcissa  
_


	11. The Dueling Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor gets mixed reviews; Gilderoy Lockhart thinks a Dueling Club is a good way to save face; Hogwarts finds out Harry's a parselmouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually one of my favorite chapters. Like, Lily calling out Gilderoy was great, but also this chapter is the very reason I started this AU. Harry being loved, and still facing his struggles, but having a support system and people who care about him--all the things I started this AU for. I also wrote it for Marauders, but the next chapter is Christmas so I'll get to write them all there.

Harry was released from the infirmary on Sunday morning. His arm was better, if a little stiff. He looked to where they’d brought Colin in, but the bed had been covered with curtains. Madam Pomfrey checked his fingers and arm, and sent him on his way. She seemed quite eager to be rid of him and turn all her attention to Colin Creevey.

Harry was a little disappointed that Ron and Hermione weren’t waiting for him, but he found them in Moaning Myrtle’s toilet. Hermione had already lit a fire in one of the porcelain bowls and had a cauldron resting on top of it. She was quite good at waterproof fires.

Ron stepped to the side of the small stall so Harry could squeeze in with them. “We’d’ve come to meet you,” he said, “but we decided to get started on the Polyjuice Potion.”

Harry started to tell them about Colin, but Hermione interrupted.

“We already know--we heard Professor McGonagall telling Professor Flitwick this morning. That’s why we decided we’d better get going--”

“The sooner we get a confession out of Malfoy, the better,” Ron said. “D’you know what I think? He was in such a foul temper after the Quidditch match, he took it out on Colin.”

Harry was inclined to agree. Especially if Dobby belonged to the Malfoy family. He told Ron and Hermione what Dobby had told him, and Ron said the same thing Harry had been pondering.

“Lucius Malfoy must’ve opened the Chamber when he was at school here and now he’s told dear old Draco how to do it. It’s obvious. I wish Dobby’d told you what kind of monster is in there, though. I want to know how come nobody’s noticed it sneaking around the school.”

“Maybe it can make itself invisible,” Hermione suggested, “or disguise itself--pretend to be a suit of armor or something.”

Harry only wished he knew how the Black family house elf figured into all of this. He would have to write Sirius and ask. And hunt for that one letter that mentioned Voldemort needing a house elf. Because whatever was happening, Dobby had warned that it was worse than Voldemort. Harry still didn’t see how.

“There’s one more thing,” Harry said. “My mum’s going to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

\--- --- ---

By Monday morning, everyone was talking about Colin Creevey, and the first years were terrified.

Ginny was especially distraught. Fred and George’s attempts to cheer her were rather unsuccessful. In Harry’s opinion, taking turns at spooking her by jumping out from behind statues, or covering themselves in fur and boils, seemed like a poor way to cheer someone up. But Ron said it worked all the time at home.

By the end of Monday, everyone was talking about Defense Against the Dark Arts. The boys, at first, were excited, and the girls heartbroken. But by the time Harry, Ron, and Hermione got to class, Professor Potter had earned the reputation of being as difficult as Snape and McGonagall combined, and played no favorites.

The only students who seemed to like her were the N.E.W.T. students, who found her challenging lessons a welcome relief from Lockhart’s dull lectures.

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived at their class, she instructed them to silently take their seats, and passed out an exam with no introduction. It was nothing like the exam Lockhart had given them. It was overwhelmingly difficult, and Harry was only able to answer a handful of questions, mostly drawing on knowledge gained from stories he’d heard from his parents, and a few answers came from the notes in the book Sirius had given him. About halfway through, he sneaked a glance at Hermione and saw her staring furiously at the paper, but not writing much down. It was a little comfort to know that even she was struggling.

Lily (Harry didn’t know if he should call her Mum or Professor) collected the exams and told the students they would receive their scores in the following class. Harry felt pretty awful as they trooped to dinner.

“She can’t really expect that test to go towards our grade,” Hermione said with a lilt of panic in her voice. “I mean, those were fifth-year level questions. We can’t possibly be expected to know the answers.”

But Ron and Harry had no words of comfort for her.

Eventually, rumor trickled down that the tests were made of O.W.L.-level questions, and Professor Potter had used them as an assessment exam for her classes. Hermione looked like someone had lifted a Pondictus Charm from her shoulders when she heard the scores wouldn’t count.

Lockhart was not too happy about Lily Potter’s new popularity with the older students, and could be found at mealtimes apologizing to the girls who crowded his table.

“Not to worry,” he said one evening, a few weeks after Lily had begun teaching, “I’ve got something planned you will absolutely love.”

A poster for a Dueling Club went up shortly after. 

In Defense Against the Dark Arts that day, Lavender Brown asked Professor Potter what she thought of the club, and Professor Potter replied, “Dueling is an art that requires an incredible amount of skill and quick thinking. I will let Mr. Lockhart’s skills speak for themselves, rather than waste words on them.”

The boys in the class snickered and the girls murmured uncomfortably to each other. Their professor quickly took charge of the class by asking them to tell her the differences between a Doxy and a Pixie.

Luckily, Harry’s daily life didn’t change much. After class, Lily would occasionally ask how he was doing, but she largely left him to his own devices, for which he was very grateful, because they were nearly done with the Polyjuice Potion, and the last thing he needed was his mother to discover he and his friends were brewing an advanced potion for the purposes of sneaking into the Slytherin common room.

The Dueling Club began that evening, and Gilderoy Lockhart introduced Professor Snape as his assistant.

Lily attended, but stood near the back of the crowd, with a few sixth and seventh years, who looked as judgemental of the event as she did.

Lockhart, after introducing a furious-looking Snape, waved his hand to her. “And would Miss Potter like to add anything before we begin?”

With fire in her green eyes and a curl in her smile that reminded Harry a bit of Sirius, she said, “It’s Professor Potter, and just as you have graciously given me the floor in my own classroom--” the third and fourth year Slytherins laughed at this, “--I would not deign to impose on your teaching abilities here.”

Lockhart’s smile looked a little uncomfortable, and Snape’s glare had turned into an incredibly amused expression. Harry had never seen Snape look so pleased about something. He nudged Ron and Ron’s mouth nearly dropped.

“I haven’t seen him smile like that since Slytherin won the Quidditch Cup last year.”

“He must really hate Lockhart,” Harry said quietly. “I wonder why he agreed to help him.”

Ron shrugged. “Fred and George did say he’s been after the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for years.”

Lockhart and Snape began an exhibition duel for the benefit of the students. They bowed to each other--Lockhart grandly and Snape abruptly--and raised their wands. Harry remembered watching his parents do this once when he was very small--small enough to sit in a tired Uncle Remus’s lap while Sirius refereed. Harry wondered if there should be someone to referee now. Snape didn’t look like he would hold back at all. For once, Harry sort of hoped he wouldn’t.

“As you can see,” Lockhart began, “we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course. One… two… three--”

Snape said, “ _Expelliarmus!_ ” and there was a flash of red light. Gilderoy Lockhart went flying into the wall. The Slytherins cheered, and the students beside Lily laughed. Even she let slip a small, satisfied smirk.

Lockhart stood uneasily. “There you have it. That was a Disarming Charm--as you can see, I’ve lost my wand--ah, thank you Miss Brown--yes, an excellent idea to show them that Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind my saying so, it was pretty obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have only been too easy--however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…. Enough demonstration! I’m going to come amongst you and put you all into pairs--”

Before he could finish, several girls were shouting for him to partner with them, and a handful of the sixth and seventh years were begging Lily to partner with them.

Harry immediately went to partner with Ron, but Snape suddenly appeared and partnered Ron with Seamus and Harry with Malfoy. He looked for his mom for help escaping the duel, but she was busy getting the sixth and seventh years appropriately paired up.

Lockhart retook the stage. “Face your partners and bow.”

Harry and Malfoy inclined their heads without taking their eyes off each other.

“Now, wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents--only to disarm them--we don’t want any accidents--one… two… three--”

But Malfoy cast his spell on two. His _Expelliarmus_ knocked Harry back like he’d been run over by a Hippogriff. Harry stumbled to his feet, picked his wand up, and shouted back, “Rictumsempra!”

Malfoy was hit by a jet of silver light that took all the air out of him.

“I said disarm only!” Lockhart shouted.

Harry threw a Tickling Charm at Malfoy, but felt it would be unsporting to cast another spell while Malfoy was doubled over with laughter. That turned out to be a mistake--Malfoy gasped, “Tantellegra!” and Harry’s feet began dancing uncontrollably.

Snape shouted _Finite Incantatem_ , and even Lily cast a few _Finites_ as they sorted out the chaos of the duels around them.

“I suppose I ought to teach you how to block unfriendly spells,” Lockhart said as he surveyed the chaos from his stage. “Let’s have a volunteer pair.”

Snape quickly volunteered Harry and Malfoy to be the demonstrators. Harry wanted to know what Snape’s obsession was with the two of them as they were steered into the center of the room by Lockhart.

“Now, Harry,” Lockhart said, “When Draco points his wand at you, you do this.” And he made some sort of wiggling motion with his wand and accidentally dropped it. Snape and the crowd laughed. Harry looked for his mother, who was not laughing. She looked furious. Harry wondered who with.

When she met his eyes, she mouthed a spell at him, but he couldn’t quite read her lips.

“Scared, Potter?” Malfoy muttered to him. “Do you need your Mummy to come rescue you?”

Harry glared at Malfoy. “You wish.”

As Lockhart stepped away to count, Harry tried to remember one of the days he’d watched his parents duel, and tried to remember specifically what protection spell his father had used. He closed his eyes when Lockhart said, “Two,” to visualize the memory of his parents’ duel more clearly. When Lockhart hit, “One,” Harry shouted, “ _Protego!_ ”

Pain shot from his scar and threatened to split his head in two. He heard not his own voice, or his father’s voice, but his mother screaming the spell. There was a flash of white light, and a flash of green light, a woman’s scream, and an explosion in Harry’s head. He wondered what he’d done wrong with the spell. He felt nauseated.

When he managed to open his eyes, there was an angry snake slithering towards him. He didn’t know what spell Malfoy had cast, but he wanted to laugh. Snakes were the least of Harry’s fears in life.

But then Lockhart pointed his wand at the snake. There was a bang and it flew ten feet into the air before smacked the ground. It hissed furiously and slithered towards Justin Finch-Fletchley.

Harry stepped towards the snake. He said, very firmly, “Leave him alone.” The snake looked at Harry and obediently coiled into a tight ball.

Then Harry looked at Justin, expecting a thank you--Instead he got a very furious and terrified, “What are you playing at?” and Justin stormed out of the hall.

Harry was as bewildered as the snake when Snape vanished it into a puff of black smoke. Harry knew parseltongue wasn’t the most attractive language in the world--Sirius often said it sent shivers down his spine--but he didn’t think it could be that terrifying. He’d saved Justin, after all.

But Snape was giving him a very cold and uncomfortably calculating stare, so he made no protest as Ron and Hermione steered him out of the hall and all the way upstairs to the common room.

“You’re a parselmouth?” Ron said and practically shoved Harry into a chair. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Oh. It was never important. I don’t know.” He hadn’t meant to keep being a parselmouth a secret but he did remember his parents and Sirius having a quiet conversation behind closed doors, and there had been a letter to Dumbledore at some point. He remembered his father said to be careful who he told, and he remembered them saying they would tell him what was so bad about it before he went off to Hogwarts. He didn’t remember them saying anything about being a parselmouth since then. “I’ve only done it a few times to play pranks on Sirius. It’s not very difficult. I bet loads of people here can too.”

“No they can’t,” Ron said. “It’s not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad.”

Harry frowned. “It’s not bad. If I hadn’t told that snake not to attack Justin--”

“Oh, that’s what you said to it?”

“Yes, that’s what I said to it! Of course that’s what I said to it. I wouldn’t say anything else to it.” Harry’s face felt hot. He didn’t know if he was embarrassed or angry. Maybe both. “What’s so bad about it?” he asked, and looked to Hermione for the answer.

Hermione bit on her lower lip. “It’s what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That’s why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent.”

“And now,” said Ron, “the whole school’s going to think you’re his great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson or something--”

“But I’m not.”

“He lived about a thousand years ago,” Hermione said. “For all we know, you could be.”

Harry shook his head. “No.” There was something else going on. Something bigger than the Chamber of Secrets. “I’m going to go find my mom.” He had a lot of questions for her.

Harry left the common room and went down to his mother’s office. People avoided him as he walked past, and conversations dropped to hushed whispers around him. Harry ignored them all.

The last time he’d been to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher’s office was for detention with Lockhart. He thought he’d rather do that then try to talk to his mother about what happened. His parents were so strangely secretive about these things. But he needed answers.

He knocked on her door.

He had to wait a while before she answered. He was about to knock again when she finally opened the door, and a handful of sixth and seventh years left. Percy Weasley was among them. He opened his mouth to say something to Harry--Harry imagined it would be critical--but Lily cut him off.

“Have a good night,” she said to her students. “Stay warm. It looks like snow. And don’t worry.” She put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “There’s no need to make mountains out of molehills.”

“I don’t understand, Professor,” one of the students in Slytherin robes said.

Lily paused and amended her metaphor. “Don’t make Trolls out of Puffskeins.”

One of the Hufflepuff boys laughed at the Slytherin girl and she cuffed his ear as they walked downstairs to their dormitories.

Once they were gone, Lily smiled gently at Harry. “I wondered if you’d be coming by.”

She let him into her office and closed the door behind them. He wasn’t sure if he should sit at the desk like it was a teacher-student meeting or not, so he only stood awkwardly.

Lily waved her wand and a plate of biscuits and a tea set appeared by the roaring fire. Harry recognized the tea set as the same one from their house. Then, Lily used a Levitation Charm to move several chair cushions beside the fire. She sat down and motioned for Harry to sit in her lap.

Harry dipped his biscuit into the teacup of warm milk. It really felt like they were sitting beside the fire at home, he thought as he settled against his mother.

“Mum,” he finally started, “do you remember when I wrote you the letter about the Sorting Hat?”

“Of course I remember.”

“And I said it wanted to put me in Slytherin. Is it because I’m a descendant of him? Because I can talk to snakes? Because I don’t want to be--I don’t want to be like Salazar Slytherin.” He felt himself getting worked up, but he couldn’t seem to stop.

Lily set her tea down and pulled him into a tight hug. “Oh, darling, is that what all this was about? I thought--” She paused. “We told you that being a parselmouth is a wonderful gift. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”

“But everyone thinks I told the snake to attack Justin! And Hermione and Ron said that it’s not a good thing, and--”

“Then your friends are wrong.”

“But what if I am a descendant of Slytherin?”

“Does it matter? Harry, a lot of people will try to tell you that blood matters, but it doesn’t. Hermione and Ron should know better. Hermione has already had people tell her that she isn’t a proper witch, because her parents aren’t wizards. When I went through my years at Hogwarts, people told me the same thing. But you know what? I am a very talented witch.”

Harry laughed a little.

“And look at Sirius. His parents were like Salazar Slytherin, but you would never hear Sirius say anything about pure-bloods being better wizards, would you?”

“No.”

“And then there’s Uncle Remus. Do you think he is defined by his blood?”

“No, of course not.”

“So, even if you are a parselmouth because somewhere in your blood is a drop of Salazar Slytherin, it shouldn’t matter, right?”

“Right,” Harry agreed, because he knew she was right. But it didn’t make him feel any better. He still felt worried that he should have ended up in Slytherin, because the Sorting Hat knew. He was still upset that everyone thought he’d tried to hurt Justin, and he was scared people would think he was the Heir of Slytherin.

“Can I ask you a question, now?” Lily said.

“Okay.”

“Did something happen when you cast that Protection Charm today?”

“Oh. Sort of. I just thought I did it wrong.”

Lily laughed. “You said it wonderfully and clearly. I think if Draco Malfoy had actually cast Expelliarmus instead of Serpensortia, it would have worked just fine. But you looked a little ill.”

Harry finished his biscuit before answering. “I was remembering that time you and Dad dueled right before the full moon. And Dad used that spell.”

“I’m surprised you remember that. You were barely six.” 

Harry nodded. “It’s the first time I really remember understanding why Remus was sick, and I think you and Dad were trying to cheer him up? ....But when I cast the spell, my head hurt, like… like that time I saw the unicorn in the Forbidden Forest.” He paused and stared into his cup of milk. “And I heard you casting it, and there was a flash of green light, and a scream, like in the dreams I had after I saw the unicorn.” He set the cup down. “I think the screaming was you. It sounded like you when I heard the Protection Charm in my head.”

Lily was very still while Harry spoke. When he finished, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. “You never told me you had nightmares.”

“They stopped after school ended last year. This was the first time I heard it again.” Harry leaned into his mother’s shoulder and just sat for a moment, enjoying being warm. And then suddenly--“Mum? Are you crying?”

Lily quickly let him go and wiped her eyes dry. She smiled, but she still looked so sad as she kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry. It’s very late, and I think I’m quite tired. Perhaps you should run off to bed. And dream of something pleasant.”

Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to leave just yet. He stayed seated, even when Lily pulled away to stand.

“Mum, why don’t you ever tell me when something’s wrong? I’m twelve now, not six.”

Lily gave him a very long, very sad look. Then she pulled him to his feet and hugged him tightly. His head almost reached her shoulder.

“You know when you were only a year old, how your father and I were hiding from Voldemort? And he found us, and tried to kill you.”

“And that’s how I got my scar.”

“Yes. I think your nightmares are a memory of that night.”

“But how would I remember that? I was only a baby.”

Lily let out a long, heavy sigh. “I don’t know, Harry. But I don’t think it’s very good for you to dwell on it. It’s in the past, and we’re all alright now.” She kissed his forehead. She didn’t have to lean down very far to do it. “Now, off to bed. You don’t want Percy to catch you out after hours.”

Harry laughed a little. He definitely didn’t want Percy to catch him after hours. Percy might take away all fifty points he’d earned in the last Quidditch game.

He left his mother’s office feeling a little better than when he’d left, and he fell asleep in his dormitory easily, full of warm milk and biscuits, and dreamed only of snakes playing in the grass outside his house.

\--- --- ---

Dearest James,

Did you know Harry’s been having nightmares about the night Voldemort came to our house? And I don’t mean just scared of it happening, but actual memory nightmares. He told me tonight and it aligns perfectly with my memories of that night.

I immediately went to speak with Dumbledore about it, and he and I agreed there was likely a connection established between Harry and Voldemort that night. We’re both concerned that his resurgence of this nightmare means that the prophecy is not as completed as we had hoped.

Of course I haven’t said any of this to Harry. I don’t know if we should even tell Remus or Sirius just yet.

I know I’ll see you on Saturday, but I think we shouldn’t be talking about this where other students might hear. And don’t try to tell me students don’t sneak out on weekends when they don’t have permission. I know you and Sirius had an illegal butterbeer trade set up in your day.

Love always,

Lily

\--- --- ---

Doe-est Lily,

I don’t really feel there’s any reason to believe the nightmares are a result of a current connection. Maybe before, but now he has the memory of the nightmare, so just because he has them doesn’t mean the connection is still there.

I understand wanting to wait until he’s older to tell him the prophecy, but I also don’t see the need. He’s completed it and faced You-Know-Who and defeated him. Of course I didn’t want it to happen when he was eleven, but shouldn’t we just be grateful it’s passed and he’s fine?

I’ll see you Saturday. Remus and Sirius are helping me pick out your Christmas present since you won’t tell me what you want. So you can blame them if you don’t like it.

Love always,

James

P.S. That butterbeer trade was purely rumor!

\--- --- ---

_November 3, 1981_

_Dear Sev,_

_Where are you? No one’s seen you all week. I know you had a thing for that mudblood witch, but seriously, move on. The Dark Lord had his reasons for going after them, and there are bigger things happening right now._

_Bella hasn’t heard from The Dark Lord since he went to the Potters’. We think those Aurors might have an idea what happened--the Longbottoms. They’re pure-bloods, but they’re so loyal to Dumbledore it’s painful. They were close to the Potters, from what we know, and since Pettigrew went and betrayed us all, we think they might know something._

_You really ought to come interrogating with us. Rodolphus says you’ve got some Veritaserum left, right? It would be helpful and efficient, of course, as a last resort._

_Sincerely,_

_Barty_

\--- --- ---

Harry wanted to apologize to Justin. He wandered the halls, but saw no sign of him. Then he heard Ernie MacMillan say Justin was hiding out in the Hufflepuff Common Room, which irritated Harry. But what really upset him was when Ernie said to Hannah Abbott, “No one knows how he survived that attack by You-Know-Who. I mean to say, he was only a baby when it happened. Only a really powerful Dark wizard could have survived a curse like that. That’s probably why You-Know-Who wanted to kill him in the first place. Didn’t want another Dark Lord competing with him. I wonder what other powers Potter’s been hiding.”

Harry jumped on Ernie Macmillan, all fists and no wands. And he was lucky it was Hagrid who came to sort them out instead of Snape, McGonagall, or Lily.

“What’s all this then?” Hagrid said as he pulled the two boys apart. “Ye can’t be fightin’ like this. I oughtta give the two of you detention.”

“Potter started it,” Ernie whined. “He’s the Heir of Slytherin and--”

“That’s a load o’ rubbish if I ever heard it.” It wasn’t much, but just hearing someone besides his mother deny it so confidently was comforting to Harry. “And I dun want ter hear yeh spreadin’ anymore rumors and lies about Harry here. Yeh understan’?”

“B-but he hit me,” Ernie said.

“An’ I’ll reprimand him for that in a moment. But righ’ now I’m tellin’ yeh, yer not to say anymore about Harry and this Heir of Slytherin business, alrigh’?”

Ernie nodded dumbly, and Hagrid took Harry’s shoulder and steered him down the hall.

“I’m sorry, Hagrid,” Harry said quietly. “Could you not tell my mum about this? Or Professor McGonagall?”

“Course I won’t tell,” Hagrid said. His voice was low--it was always low, but he was quieter now, like a distant rumble of thunder. “What class’ve ye got right now?”

“Transfiguration is next.”

“I’ll walk yeh there.”

“You don’t have to. I need to get my books from my dormitory anyway.”

“I dun mind. I was on my way ter see Professor Dumbledore anyhow.”

“What about?”

“Somethin’s been eatin’ my roosters. Gotta get permission for protection ‘round the coop.”

“That sounds important. You should take care of it. I’ll be fine on my way to the dormitory, and Ron and Hermione will be there.”

Hagrid let out a low grumble of protest. “Well, alrigh’ then, but don’t yeh go gettin’ into any fights now. I pulled yer Da’ and Sirius out of enough in their day, with each other more of’en than not. Don’t you go gettin’ into the same habits.”

This, of all things, made Harry smile. “I promise.”

He left Hagrid and started up to the Gryffindor Common Room. He didn’t make it very far.

He turned down a dark corridor--icy and drafty from an open window, too--and tripped over something in the floor. He squinted through the darkness, and realized it was Justin Finch-Fletchley, sprawled on the floor, stiff, frozen--petrified like Colin, like Mrs. Norris.

And, hovering nearby, was Nearly Headless Nick, black and smoky. Some sort of petrified version of a ghost.

Harry quickly scrambled to his feet, ready to run. No one had to know he found Justin. He could tell his mother or McGonagall what happened, they would come find Justin, and they would never say a word of him being there to anyone. He could even try to find Hagrid or Madam Pomfrey, anyone who would be able to help without telling everyone he’d been there.

But it was too late.

Peeves arrived, making his usual ruckus, and when he saw the scene before Harry, opened his mouth and screamed. “ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! ATTACK! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!”

The corridor flooded with students. Ernie Macmillan saw him pressed against the wall and shouted, “Caught in the act!” and pointed dramatically, even though Hannah Abbott was pulling on his sleeve and trying to shush him. Harry thought if he had to stand there much longer, he might cry.

“That will do,” McGonagall said sternly as she swept through the crowd. “Everyone back to class, immediately!”

Nobody moved.

“I said return to class!” And raised her wand. There was a loud bang and the students scurried away, save three prefects and the Head Boy--the Hufflepuff boy he’d seen last night.

“I swear, I didn’t do it,” Harry tried.

McGonagall sighed heavily. “This is out of my hands, Potter.”

Someone put a hand on his shoulder, and he saw the Slytherin girl from his mother’s office standing beside him. She was wearing a Prefect badge he hadn’t noticed before. She smiled encouragingly at him. That felt almost as good as when Hagrid had defended him.

“I can walk him to his class, Professor,” she said.

“No, thank you Miss Scrimgeour, but I’d prefer you fetch Madam Pomfrey for Mr. Finch-Fletchley. And Mr. Nott--See what you can do for Sir Nicholas.”

The Hufflepuff Head Boy nodded. “Of course, Professor.”

McGonagall took Harry’s shoulder and led him away, down two corridors and up a staircase to a large stone gargoyle Harry recognized from his first year.

“Lemon Drop,” McGonagall said, and the statue stepped aside. The wall split in two, revealing a spiral staircase, and Harry, very reluctantly, took the steps up to Dumbledore’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I'm in love with my new original characters, Anne Scrimgeour and Leonardo Nott, so you can expect side stories with them because all I had to do was invent them for a little bit of detail and now they have full backstories whoops.


	12. The Polyjuice Potion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry spends Christmas at Hogwarts for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter with wonderful Marauders goodness. Headcanons and criticisms are appreciated as always. And a shoutout to my wonderful beta: tumblr user ageofzero.

Harry had been to Dumbledore’s office twice his first year at Hogwarts. Once with his parents, after he’d nearly been jinxed off his broom by Professor Quirrell, and another when he, Ron, and Hermione had been called in and sternly told Severus Snape was not interested in stealing the Philosopher’s Stone, and they should stop investigating the matter.

This was the first time Harry had been alone in Dumbledore’s office, and as stressed as he was about what had happened to Justin Finch-Fletchley, his curiosity could not be deterred. The office was decorated with all sorts of whimsical devices, portraits of previous Headmasters of Hogwarts--Harry recognized Armando Dippet and Newt Scamander from his Chocolate Frog collection, and noticed a stern looking gentleman that reminded Harry of Sirius--and a curious desk with claws for feet.

On a shelf above the desk sat the Sorting Hat that had been plaguing Harry for weeks. He looked around one more time to be sure he was alone, then leaned over the desk, reached up to the shelf, and pulled the hat down onto his head.

Like in his Sorting, he heard the voice between his ears, “Bee in your bonnet, Potter?”

“I only wanted to ask--”

“Whether I put you in the right house? Yes, you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before, you would have done well in Slytherin--”

Harry yanked the hat off before it could say anymore.

His mother’s words had been a small comfort to him, and the Hat’s were even worse. What he really wanted to hear was someone tell him that the Sorting Hat was rubbish, and of course he belonged in Gryffindor. He knew all he needed to do was tell his father or Sirius about his doubts, and they would say all the things he longed to hear. But he couldn’t work up the courage.

A strange choking noise startled him out of his self-pity. He turned around, afraid he’d disturbed someone, but it was only Dumbledore’s bird. He’d seen it in Dumbledore’s office before, an old faded thing he’d taken little note of. Now it looked positively miserable, hacking on its small perch. Harry was just wondering if it was finally dying when it burst into a flame so hot Harry had to step away. The burning intensified further, until the bird was more fireball than bird, and with an ear-piercing shriek, it disintegrated into a pile of ash.

Harry’s hands were shaking--first Justin, now the bird--he was in trouble for sure.

And when Dumbledore stepped in with an unusually solemn expression and no twinkle in his eyes, Harry desperately tried to stammer an apology without crying.

“Your bird--I couldn’t do anything--he just caught fire--”

Dumbledore calmly raised his hand and even smiled a little. “Yes, about time too. He’s been looking dreadful for days.” He chuckled a little at Harry’s confusion and said, “Look closely.”

Harry watched the ashes as a featherless, wrinkly, baby bird poked its head out.

“Normally he’s quite handsome,” Dumbledore said. “Wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets.”

Harry stared at the newborn bird, settling itself into the warmth of the still smoldering ashes and only remembered why he was there in the first place when the door burst open and Hagrid came thundering in with Lily right behind him.

“It wasn’ Harry, Professor Dumbledore! I was talkin’ to him seconds before that boy was found, he never had time, sir--it can’t’ve bin him, I swear it in front of the Ministry of Magic if I have to--I know Harry would never--”

“Hagrid,” Dumbledore interrupted firmly, “I do not think Harry attacked those people.”

“Oh,” Hagrid said sheepishly, and Harry thought his mother looked a little relieved. “I’ll jus’ wait outside then, Headmaster,” Hagrid said, and left Lily behind.

Dumbledore gestured to the chairs in front of his desk and Lily and Harry each took one. Lily reached for Harry’s hand, and he gratefully accepted. Maybe if Ron or Draco had been there, he would’ve been embarrassed, but in front of Dumbledore, he didn’t think it mattered.

“If you don’t think it’s me, Professor, why am I here?” Harry asked.

“I only want to know if there is anything you want to tell me. Anything at all.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He thought about Draco Malfoy and how awful Draco had been all year. He thought about the illegal Polyjuice Potion he and his friends were brewing. He thought of the conversation with his mother about blood, and his letters to Sirius about the voices he’d been hearing. His mother squeezed his hand, and he knew she was expecting him to say something.

“I’ve been hearing a voice,” he finally said, “that no one else seems to be able to hear. It’s a little terrifying, and it says it wants to kill. Malfoy didn’t hear it, and Ron and Hermione didn’t hear it. I don’t know what it is, Professor, honest, but Mum said I should tell you.”

Dumbledore didn’t say anything for so long, Harry wondered if he was supposed to say something else.

“And Dobby came to see me again.” He realized he’d never told anyone but Ron and Hermione about it, because of the chaos of Colin Creevey and his mother becoming a professor. “He was the one who charmed the Bludger that broke my arm. I couldn’t get much out of him about the Chamber of Secrets, but he said it was worse than Voldemort. He said that over the summer, too. Professor… is it really that bad? You-Know-Who killed people, and Madam Pomfrey and Professor Sprout can fix Justin and Colin, can’t they?”

“Mr. Creevey and Mr. Finch-Fletchley will be perfectly alright as soon as the Mandrakes are ready, and Professor Sprout assures me they are coming along nicely,” Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. “I’m afraid I cannot say what lies in the Chamber of Secrets, and since you have been honest with me, I owe you the same. Whatever is inside the Chamber of Secrets has killed before. Many, many years ago. But no, I do not believe it could be worse than the return of Voldemort. It is a good thing you took care of him last year, isn’t it?” Dumbledore asked with a small smile.

Harry felt his mother’s hand tighten around his, and he nodded.

“Now, Harry,” Dumbledore said, “I wonder if you might give your mother and I a moment to speak alone?”

Harry nodded and went off to Transfiguration, hoping Ron and Hermione had grabbed his books.

\--- --- ---

Christmas came quickly. The castle was left nearly empty for the holiday break, which Harry, Ron, and Hermione were grateful for. Hermione insisted they use the Polyjuice Potion over the break when there were less students around, and they were less likely to get caught.

There was one problem with that plan.

James, Sirius, and Remus arrived at Hogwarts the day before Christmas, very eager to spend time with Harry and his friends.

“I thought you were staying in that cottage you bought in Hogsmeade,” Harry said as James pulled him into a tight hug.

“We will,” James said, “but for Christmas Eve, we thought we’d all stay here.”

This excited Fred and George, who, much to Harry’s bewilderment, had grown quite interested in James and Sirius. 

“It’s a bit cold for a Quidditch match,” George said as he led Sirius up the stairs to Gryffindor tower.

“Wood might disagree,” Fred laughed, right on James’s heels.

“But Fred and I thought we could play Exploding Snap. It’s just us in the tower. We can be as loud as we want.”

“I haven’t played a good game of Exploding Snap in years,” Sirius said as they arrived at the Fat Lady’s portrait.

The Fat Lady made a comment about Sirius, James, and Remus being a little old to stay in a dormitory, and Sirius winked at her and asked if she remembered them. She looked over the group and said she remembered little Remus Lupin, who was always so polite to her. Again, Harry wondered why everyone called him “little” Remus Lupin. Harry could not imagine Uncle Remus being very little.

Once in the common room, Sirius and James took their luggage to the empty seventh year dorm they were borrowing for the night, and Remus took a seat on the couch next to Ginny while Fred and George set up Exploding Snap. Percy watched them for a moment, then loudly announced he had studying he needed to do in the library. No one was very sorry to see him go.

Harry tried to help Fred and George prepare the game, but they insisted the infamous Heir of Slytherin do no work. He blushed a little and laughed--it was nice to hear Fred and George find the rumors about him being the Heir of Slytherin as ridiculous as they really were. But of course, Remus didn’t understand the comment, and so Harry had to explain how half the school was terrified he would petrify them with the monster in the Chamber of Secrets.

Remus’s lips pressed into a very thin line and his brow furrowed, and then he burst out into laughter. When James and Sirius returned, Remus was still laughing, and now Harry had to explain all over again.

James and Sirius were not nearly as amused as Remus. Sirius was absolutely furious, and threatened to go down to the Hufflepuff dorm himself and tell them to stop spreading lies. James told him not to, Remus told him the dorm was probably empty anyway, and Fred and George dragged him into a game of Exploding Snap.

Between all the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Sirius, James, and Remus, games got very loud. Harry had to sit out for one round because he could barely breathe from laughing so hard, and he as he watched his friends and family play, he wondered if he’d ever seen Uncle Remus laugh so much. 

Lily arrived and said she was too tired from grading exams to play, but would cheer for Ginny and Hermione. James and Harry both faked grievous insult for the next few games, and by overplaying their offense at Lily’s betrayal, they managed to get a laugh out of Ginny. Harry wasn't sure he'd ever seen her laugh.

Fred and George mentioned the dueling club that Lockhart had started, and James, Sirius, and Remus listened in horror.

James looked at Lily. “He said what to you?”

Sirius looked at Harry. “He told you do to what?”

Remus shook his head in disgust. “I’m so glad you have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

And that was how they started their own little dueling club right there, practicing well past midnight, as Sirius, James, Lily, and Remus taught them all a variety of Protection Charms and Jinxes.

Sometime after midnight, they finally stumbled up to their dorms. 

Fred said, “Lee’s going to be so jealous.”

“We learned the best from the best,” George agreed with a broad smile.

Hermione added with a yawn, “I never knew your parents knew so much about dueling, Harry.”

“They are First Class Order of Merlin,” Harry said with a shrug.

“They dueled You-Know-Who himself,” Ron said, awe breaking through his exhaustion.

“That’s what everyone says.”.

Harry and Ron said goodnight to Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny, and went into their own dorm. Harry and Ron fell asleep almost as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

Early that morning, Hermione appeared in their room, shaking them awake. Ron and Harry stumbled out of their beds and accepted her gifts for them with bleary eyes.

“You’re up so early,” Ron yawned as he added her present to pile at the end of his bed. He stared at the pile for a moment, then looked at Harry’s pile, then back to his. “Are these really all mine?”

Harry looked over to the end of Ron’s bed. “Oh. My parents and Sirius got you something.”

“They got me gifts too,” Hermione said. “Your parents are very generous, Harry.”

“I think Sirius just really enjoys spending money,” Harry said as he picked out the gift with the brightest wrapping paper on it. “What did he get you?”

“A complete set of Wanda Warth’s Guide to Defense for Witches and Warlocks. I’ve always thought Lockhart’s stories were better….”

“If Sirius says it’s a good book about Defense, then I promise it is,” Harry said. 

“It can’t possibly be worse than Lockhart,” Ron said with a disgusted face.

Hermione sniffed a little and then said, “Well, I’m already up because I’ve just finished adding lacewing flies to the potion.” She paused for a minute, then added, “Mr. Lupin might be suspicious of us. He was up too, and asked me where I was going.”

Harry only shrugged. “Uncle Remus is always suspicious, but he won’t tell anyone. Sirius, on the other hand, is never suspicious, but if he knows anything, he’ll accidentally tell everyone. He’d probably mention it to Malfoy offhand or something.”

Ron laughed. “Could you imagine if we told Malfoy, but never did it?”

Even Hermione laughed at that, but killed the mood by telling them they ought to use the potion that night. They’d have to find a way to slip away from the party without any of the adults noticing. They’d expected it to be easy, over the holidays, but with four adults tagging along with their friends, they weren’t sure they’d be as successful.

Even though they were dreading the potion that evening, they managed to enjoy opening their presents. Hanging out in the Gryffindor Common Room with the Weasleys, Hermione, and his family was the best sort of Christmas Harry could ever ask for.

The feast that evening was as grand as Harry had been led to believe from his parents’ stories. Dumbledore wore his flower bonnet, McGonagall and Hagrid drank plenty of mead, and Flitwick led them in several carols. James and Sirius ended up competing with Fred and George to see who could sing the loudest.

At one point, Harry noticed Uncle Remus was no longer sitting with them. He looked across to the Slytherin table and saw that with Crabbe and Goyle stuffing their faces with dessert, Draco had been left to himself, and Remus was just sitting down next to him.

Harry’s cheeks burned with something he didn’t really understand, so he helped himself to a third serving of pudding. 

He was just finishing it off when Hermione touched his arm and leaned in between him and Ron to tell them it was a good time to leave.

Harry looked at James and Sirius, who were sticking small crackers in Fred and George’s pudding. Then he looked at his mother, who was telling Ginny a story--judging by her hand motions, it was about the first time Harry rode a broom--and Uncle Remus was still sitting at the Slytherin table.

“Okay. But if we disappear without saying anything, it’ll be more suspicious.” So he quickly told his mother they were tired from last night and wanted to turn in early. Harry very pointedly did not look as Ginny dumped cream in her lap and his mother kissed his cheek. Her breath smelled like wine and she didn’t ask for any further explanation as he, Ron, and Hermione quickly left the Great Hall.

\--- --- ---  
_  
December 25, 1972_

_Dear Sirius,_

_We miss you at home. Even Mother does, honest. She really is awful when you’re not here._

_I hope you’re having a wonderful holiday at school and not getting into any trouble. I can’t imagine why you bothered to stay. I wish we could have returned on the train together, but I will see you when I get back to school._

_Love,_

_Reggie_

_\--- --- ---_

_December 25, 1974_

_Dear Sirius,_

_I hope you’re having a wonderful Christmas. I know we haven’t spoken much this year, but I had hoped we’d be able to spend some time together over the holiday._

_Cissy brought her fiance for Christmas dinner. He’s quite interesting. He said you were only a first year when he was at Hogwarts, and he was always pulling you out of fights. Sounds like not much has changed!_

_Happy Christmas, Sirius._

_Love,_

_Regulus_

_\--- --- ---_

_December 25, 1976_

_Dear Sirius_

_Mother might strangle me if she knew I’d written to you, but I don’t want things to end between us the way they had to for Bella and Andromeda. Don’t make the same choices Andromeda did._

_If you just apologize, I could talk to Mother on your behalf. It’s Christmas, so she might be more open to repairing her relationship with you._

_Please, just try. I know you could if you tried._

_Love,_

_Regulus_

_\--- --- ---_

_December 25, 1977_

_Dear Sirius,_

_Happy Christmas_

_\--Regulus_  
  
\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

I’m sorry to hear about Hermione. What an unfortunate accident so shortly after Christmas. Let her know she is welcome to write to me with any questions she might have about her work, as she’ll be missing classes.

Hope you’re doing well. It was very nice to see you at Christmas.

Love,

Uncle Remus

\--- --- ---

Dear Charlie,

Have you ever heard of a girl in Ravenclaw named Penelope Clearwater?

Love,

Ron

\--- --- ---

Dear Sirius,

I was so positive the Heir of Slytherin was Malfoy! Now we’re back to where we started, with no idea who it is or what’s in it or where it is. I guess we could try searching the Slytherin Common room, but that sounds like a really disgusting plan.

If you have any bright ideas, I’d love to hear them.

Love,

Harry


	13. The Very Secret Diary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's in the hospital, Harry finds an intriguing book, and Valentine's Day arrives

It was a gloomy Monday when Ron and Harry lugged all of Hermione’s notes and school books to the hospital wing. She was insistent on keeping up with her school work, even though Ron suggested that being in the hospital for a mistaken Polyjuice Potion was a wonderful excuse to slack off. Hermione told him that was absurd, she’d only fall behind, and they wouldn’t be able to get her help with exams. Ron agreed that delivering her homework each day might be a good idea.

A couple weeks went by. Students whispered about Hermione’s disappearance, and so many of them snuck by the infirmary to see what happened to her that Madam Pomfrey put a curtain around her bed. So when Ron and Harry went to visit her that afternoon, they didn’t see that Lily was already at Hermione’s bedside until they stepped through the curtain.

“Oh, hi Mum,” Harry said as he set a stack of History of Magic notes on Hermione’s bedside table.

Lily smiled pleasantly at Ron and Harry. “Hello. Isn’t it sweet of you two to be taking notes for Hermione and delivering her assignments for her? I hope you’re not doing it out of any sort of guilty consciences.”

“It really was all my fault,” Hermione said quickly. “I shouldn’t have borrowed Ron’s wand for a Transfiguration spell. It completely backfired.”

“Yes, Ron, you really ought to get your wand fixed,” Harry said quickly.

“I know,” Ron said glumly. “I’m afraid to tell Mum. It was Charlie’s. He said he wouldn’t need it with the dragons and so I could have it. I don’t want to tell her I broke Charlie’s wand.”

“I’m sure she’d understand,” Lily said. “I do believe it was Professor Lockhart’s fault your wand broke, right? That’s what Harry said in his letter. I suggest you have him buy you a new one.”

“I’ll think about it,” Ron mumbled.

“Well, I am glad you two are being good to Hermione. I heard Professor McGonagall say she’s been very pleased with how well the two of you have been focusing.”

“It is easier to have Hermione explain it to us, but we have to try to explain it first,” Harry said.

Lily laughed and squeezed Harry’s hand. “You really are so much like your father. He and his friends would be so well-behaved when Remus was in the hospital.”

Harry smiled and his ears went pink at the compliment.

“Why was Mr. Lupin in the hospital?” Hermione asked.

Lily stood up from her chair, still smiling. “Well, I’d better leave you three. You don’t need a grown-up hanging around, and Hermione should be ready to go over your lessons from my class.”

“Oh, yes,” Hermione said. “Professor Lockhart came by this morning as well and helped me with a little of it too.”

Lily’s smile pinched like she’d taken a bite of lemon peel-flavored Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. “I see. Did he go over my lesson and spells or did he merely read you the passage from his book and smile charmingly?”

Hermione blushed--or rather, her few remaining whiskers quivered, which Harry assumed was the cat version of blushing--and said, “He didn’t win Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award five times for nothing.”

Lily’s sour expression did not soften at the humor. “Yes, as he is so fond of reminding everyone. I hope one day you will learn that a charming smile doesn’t necessarily make anyone a decent wizard.” She turned to Harry and Ron and said, “And the same goes for witches with charming smiles. There are better qualities to be enchanted with.”

Ron nodded, and Harry said, with a small smirk of his own, “But Mum, don’t you think Dad’s smile is just a little bit charming?”

Finally, a smile cracked through Lily’s irritation. “Yes. But the things I love about your father are his bravery, loyalty, and humility. And his excellent self-made Cleaning Charms. Now, really, I should prepare for my class tomorrow. And grade some papers.” She kissed Harry’s forehead and patted Ron’s shoulder, then left quickly.

Harry and Ron stayed with Hermione, all three of them working on their homework, until Madam Pomfrey shooed them off to bed.

\--- --- ---

 

Dear Sirius,

Remember how I mentioned Moaning Myrtle? Well she flooded the hallway last night because someone threw a book at her. It’s a diary from 1943, and it’s really interesting, except for the part where it’s blank.

Ron keeps telling me it could be cursed, but it seems fine. It’s just blank. I don’t know how to figure out what’s inside it, but I’m sure it’s important. The date is from fifty years ago, and Malfoy told us the Chamber of Secrets was opened fifty years ago, and the name on the diary is T. M. Riddle, who was a Prefect and Head Boy, but he also won an award for Special Services to the school fifty years ago. It’s got to have something about the Chamber of Secrets in it. Hermione couldn’t make anything appear in it, though. Do you have any ideas?

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

Try _Aparecium_? It’s a basic revealing spell, but if someone was trying to keep their diary secret, and they were smart, they’d have thought of something more complicated.

I’ve never heard of T. M. Riddle, and I’ve never heard of the Chamber of Secrets being opened before. Sure, I knew about it. Everyone I grew up with was in Slytherin and every few years someone would try to find the Chamber, just to see if it existed, but no one ever found it. I think Malfoy might be pulling your leg.

Let me know if the Revealing Spell works, though.

Love,

Sirius

\--- --- ---

Dear Snitch,

Why don’t you ever write to me now that your Mum’s at school? Are you afraid I’ll tell her about the trouble you’re getting into? I won’t, I promise. Sirius says you still write to him, which is super unfair.

Love you, can’t wait for your next Quidditch match. Let’s not have any broken limbs, charmed broomsticks, or unexpected dives this time, alright?

Love,

Dad

\--- --- ---

Dear Dad,

I haven’t written mostly because I figure Mum was telling you all the interesting things. Hermione is out of the hospital now and back in class. Madam Pomfrey says the Mandrakes are almost done and she can make Colin and Justin better soon.

But that’s really it. It’s been super quiet ever since Christmas. Lockhart seems to think the monster gave up because it was scared of him. I don’t know who believes him. But maybe it really is all over. Maybe the Chamber of Secrets is closed again.

I’ll write again soon. Promise.

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

_May 1, 1979_

_Dear Lucius Malfoy,_

_Thank you for everything you did while we were in Paris. I was sorry Narcissa couldn’t attend, but I found the conversations absolutely stimulating. And I appreciate your offer of a job after graduation. I couldn’t ask for a better opportunity._

_However, I heard from Avery and Lestrange that the Dark Lord wanted young purebloods to aid his cause. I’m worried about a conflict of interest. I mean you no disrespect, but Bellatrix introduced me to him and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how inspiring he is._

_If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to wait to give you a formal response until I know what responsibilities the Dark Lord has for me. He seemed very impressed with my family lineage and the things I could provide for our cause. I do hope you understand._

_Sincerely,_

_Regulus Black_

\--- --- ---

Valentine’s Day was an absolute disaster. Lockhart had singing dwarves dressed as cupids running around giving Valentine’s performances and reading cards out loud. Harry thought the whole thing absurd enough as it was, and then on his way to Charms class, a dwarf grabbed his bag.

Malfoy, Fred, and George were all standing nearby, so Harry tried to run for it. He had no desire to have a dwarf sing him a valentine in front of three people who would mock him endlessly about it. But in his escape attempt, the bag ripped, and his inkwell crashed on the floor and spilled all over his belongings. Then the dwarf grabbed his ankles and Harry tumbled right into his spilled ink and his books and parchment went flying. Everyone was already laughing so hard he thought maybe they wouldn’t hear the valentine or care about it. But as the dwarf opened his mouth, Fred and George shushed everyone. 

To rapt silence, the dwarf sang,

_“His eyes are green as a fresh pickled toad,_  
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.  
I wish he was mine, he’s really divine,  
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.” 

Percy Weasley, the only one not laughing, shouted at everyone to go to class. “Move along,” he said loudly. “You too Malfoy.”

But Malfoy didn’t seem to have any intention of leaving. He reached down and picked up the diary that had spilled from Harry’s bag.

“Give it back,” Harry said as he got to his feet.

“Oh,” Malfoy crooned. “Wonder what Harry Potter’s written in his diary.” He flipped it open to a page, blank like all the others, and began to read, “I’m so glad my Mum’s a professor. I get everything I want all the time, even though Malfoy’s such a better Seeker--”

Harry wasn’t about to listen to another minute of this. “ _Expelliarmus_!” he said, and the diary shot out of Malfoy’s hand and into his own.

“Harry!” a voice shouted and Harry winced.

Lily pushed her way through the crowd of students. “No spells in the hallway! That’ll be five points from Gryffindor. All of you, go to class!”

Malfoy sniggered as he pushed past Ginny Weasley to get into his classroom. “By the way, Weasley, I don’t think Potter liked your Valentine much.”

Ginny froze in the hallway and turned bright red.

“Mr. Malfoy!” Lily shouted after him. “Respect your classmates, or I’ll be taking points on your behalf next!” She huffed in frustration and looked over Harry, as covered in ink as his parchment.

Percy immediately began to tell her how he dispersed the students, but she didn’t have the patience to hear it.

“Enough, Mr. Weasley. I believe you have a Transfiguration class to attend.”

As Percy left, Lily cast a quick cleaning spell on Harry’s school things and his robes. Then, as she mended his bag, Harry noticed his diary was perfectly dry, and had been when Malfoy picked it up.

Lily handed him his bag, then looked over at Ginny, who was so still Harry would’ve believed she’d been petrified. “What class do you have, dear?” Lily asked.

“H-Herbology,” Ginny stammered. She sounded like she might cry.

“Let me walk you, alright? I think Harry can find his own way to class.”

Ginny still didn’t move, but kept staring at Harry as he put the diary into his mended bag and started up the stairs to Charms class. Finally, Lily put an arm around Ginny’s shoulders and gently led her away.

Harry thought about Ginny’s valentine for the better part of the day--it was hard not to, with Fred and George singing it every five minutes--but as soon as he could, he slipped away to his dorm to test out his new theory with the diary. He sat down on his bed, opened the diary to January first, and dropped a dot of ink onto the blank page. It stayed there for a moment, then faded into the paper. Harry took a deep breath and wrote, “My name is Harry Potter.”

He waited, breath held, while the words shimmered on the page before finally sinking into the diary. Another moment passed, and then ink oozed out of the paper until the diary said,

_Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you come by my diary?_

\--- --- ---

Dear Dad,

Valentine’s Day was a disaster. Lockhart had these singing dwarves sending everyone valentines. It was so obnoxious.

I got one from Ginny. I guess she likes me? I don’t really know why. Do I have to do anything? I don’t know about girls or valentines or anything.

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

It’s been pretty obvious for years that Ginny has a crush on you. I’m surprised it took a Valentine for you to figure it out.

And no, you don’t have to do anything. Unless you want to do anything. Dating takes two, and if you or her don’t want to date, you don’t do anything. 

Also, you’re twelve. Don’t worry about girls for at least three more years, please. I don’t think Sirius could handle it.

Love,

Dad

\--- --- ---

Dear Uncle Remus,

I figured out the diary! I assume Sirius told you about it. He tells you everything.

I tried writing in the diary, and it was incredible. It read my words and it wrote back!

I asked it about the Chamber of Secrets and it showed me Tom Riddle catching the person who originally opened the Chamber of Secrets, but….

I don’t know if I’m happy to know it. And I don’t think I can do anything about it. I don’t know what to do at all.

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

Secrets you don’t know what to do with are hard, especially when they’re not yours to share.

You have to do what feels right. If you think someone is in danger, you should tell an adult. If no one is in danger, it’s not your secret to share. You can ask the person who is responsible to share it, but there isn’t much else you can do about it.

Best of luck. I know you’ll make the right call.

Love,

Uncle Remus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to tumblr user ageofzero for beta'ing for me, as always, and also as always, comments and headcanons highly appreciated!


	14. Cornelius Fudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monster within the Chamber of Secrets makes an attack just before the start of the Quidditch Cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on a short chapter. I actually had it done for a very long time and forgot, because I had hand-written it. It was hiding in my Prisoner of Azkaban notes. The next chapter might take a while longer because I am developing it from another character's perspective, because letters really won't work in this particular situation. So I have to do some serious inventing of events.
> 
> Chapter was beta'd by the lovely ageofzero
> 
> Comments and headcanons always appreciated.

Dear Dad,

Sorry I didn’t write last week, but it’s been really quiet at school. No attacks, no weird noises, nothing. We are picking elective courses for next year, though. I don’t know what to take. Percy said to “play to my strengths” but I’m only really good at Quidditch. Any suggestions?

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

I imagine a boring few weeks is a good few weeks. Still, it is nice to hear from you. I wish you could come visit me with your mother on weekends, but I don’t want to drag you away from your friends or Quidditch practice.

For electives, I personally loved Care of Magical Creatures. Sirius says you should take Muggle Studies, though I really don’t know why. And Remus just suggested Divination which is weird because we were all rubbish at it. He says it’s because he enjoyed the incense Professor Cressida used to burn. Well, she’s not even there anymore so I don’t think you should take his advice. He’s also telling me the centaurs are good at Divination. I don’t know what that has to do with anything. I think he’s just irritated with Sirius and I for dismissing his suggestion. It is nearly Easter, so you can guess how he is.

You can ask your mother, too, but I think she took Arithmancy which looked so difficult. I’d look over some of her notes and it was as bad as looking at a sheet of Ancient Runes--also incredibly difficult. Dropped that as soon as I finished my O.W.L.s. It’s really only useful if you want to go into research work. 

Best of luck. You’ll do great in whatever you choose.

Love,

Dad  
(and Sirius and Remus)

\--- --- ---

Harry was in a good mood Friday night as he climbed the steps to Gryffindor tower after Quidditch practice. He was sure they’d win against Hufflepuff, and that would give them the House Cup. Wood was anxious, as usual, but Harry had no doubts.

The Fat Lady didn’t even scold him for the late hour as he stepped through the hole into the Common Room. The dormitory was quiet, most of the crowd early retired for the Quidditch match in the morning. So Harry climbed the stairs to his dormitory, prepared to do the same, and bumped into Neville in the doorway.

“Harry--I don’t know who did it---I just found--”

Harry’s brow furrowed, and he pushed past Neville to see what had been done.

All of Harry’s things were in disarray. His sheets had been ripped off his bed, his trunk spilled onto the floor, and the pockets of all his robes had been turned out. His dresser drawer was even upside down on the floor and his cloak ripped in half.

Neville started putting books back together and stacking them on the bookshelf. Harry was trying to put his dresser back together when Ron, Seamus, and Dean came in.

Dean swore. “What happened, Harry?”

“No idea.”

Ron picked up Harry’s robes. “Someone’s been looking for something. Are you missing anything?”

Dean and Seamus started to help by putting the sheets back on Harry’s bed, and Ron and Harry picked up the rest of his books and clothes from the floor. Harry finally realized what was taken as he stacked the last of Lockhart’s books together.

“Tom Riddle’s diary is gone,” he whispered to Ron.

As soon as they five boys had put Harry’s things back together, Harry and Ron rushed to the Common Room to tell Hermione what had happened.

She stared at them in shock. “But only a Gryffindor could have done it. No one else knows our password.”

Harry nodded, and the three glanced around the room suspiciously, but no one in the Common Room looked guilty.

The next morning held no answers. Harry studied the face of each Gryffindor at breakfast, but he couldn’t think of why any of them wanted Tom Riddle’s diary. And all of them looked more excited about the prospect of winning the Quidditch Cup than anything else.

“Harry!” he heard Sirius shout from the entrance, and he tried to smile as he got up to greet Sirius and Uncle Remus.

“Where’s Dad?” he asked as Sirius pulled him into a tight hug.

“Went off to find your mum,” Remus said. He shook Ron’s hand and smiled at Hermione. “Glad to see you’re feeling better.” Then he asked Harry, “Ready for your big match?”

“Yeah, I just gotta grab my Quidditch gear from the dorm.”

“Oh,” Sirius said, “would you mind grabbing that diary? Moony and I are curious about it.”

Harry’s face fell. “Someone stole it yesterday. We don’t know who.”

“That is disappointing,” Remus sighed. “We thought maybe--well….”

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at them, faces full of questions, Sirius said, “We know a thing or two about enchanting parchment to talk to people. We were curious is all.”

Harry had not heard about this and made a note to ask about it again over summer break, when he wasn’t in a hurry to get to a Quidditch match. They were all headed up the stairs towards the Gryffindor Common Room when about halfway, Harry stopped and looked at Hermione and Ron. “I hear it,” he whispered.

From inside the walls came that dreadfully cold and dark voice--

“ _Kill this time... Let me rip… tear….”_

“I don’t hear anything,” Ron said.

“Is it that voice, Harry?” Sirius looked very concerned.

Hermione smacked her hand to her forehead. “Harry--I think I’ve just understood something! I’ve got to get to the library.”

“You’ll miss the match,” Sirius said, but it was too late. Hermione was already halfway down the hall to the library.

“What does she understand?” Harry asked. He was still searching for the source of the voice.

“Loads more than I do,” Ron said with a shake of his head.

“Harry, what’s this voice you’ve been hearing?” Remus asked.

Harry pressed an ear against the wall, but as students poured out of the hall, chattering about the upcoming game, the source of the voice faded away.

“I’ll tell you about it at the match,” Sirius said. “We’ll see you there, Harry.”

“Yeah.” Harry tried to shake out the cold feeling in his bones as he and Ron ran back to the dormitory to grab his Quidditch gear and then back down to the pitch.

In the locker room, he changed into his Quidditch robes and took his broom out to the field. Oliver Wood was already doing warm-up flights around the goal posts and Madam Hooch was getting ready to release the balls onto the pitch.

Harry mounted his broom, but before he could push off the ground, McGonagall came running onto the pitch. She pressed her wand beneath her chin and her voice carried across the stadium.

“The match has been canceled!”

The crowd erupted into protests. Oliver Wood flew down and skidded to a halt in front of Professor McGonagall.

“Professor! The match--We’ve got to play--The Cup--Gryffindor--”

But Professor McGonagall ignored him. “All students are to make their way back to their house Common Rooms, where their Heads of House will give them further information. As quickly as you can!”

Harry started to follow his team back into the locker room, but Professor McGonagall motioned him towards her. “Potter, I think you’d better come with me.”

Harry could not imagine how this was his fault. He imagined the school would find some way to blame him for it, but not Professor McGonagall. She understood he had no idea what was happening.

Ron broke off from the crowd and came running up to them, but McGonagall didn’t send him away.

“Yes, perhaps you’d better come, too, Weasley….”

McGonagall ushered the crowd of disgruntled students and Harry and Ron back to the castle. Then she took Harry and Ron up the large marble staircase. Harry realized suddenly they weren’t going to anyone’s office. They were going to the infirmary.

Had the voice really done what it said it would? Had someone died? Why was McGonagall taking him and Ron? Was it his parents? Remus or Sirius?

“This will be a bit of a shock,” said Professor McGonagall. “There has been another attack… another double attack.”

Harry’s heart dropped into his stomach. Professor McGonagall opened the door and he and Ron stepped inside the infirmary.

Harry saw Uncle Remus and Sirius first, talking quietly with Professor Dumbledore. He was simultaneously relieved they were alright and panicked that seeing them meant his parents were hurt.

He reluctantly looked around the curtain and he felt bad for feeling happy it wasn’t his parents. It was a curly haired Prefect in Ravenclaw robes, the one that they’d met on Christmas Eve--Penelope Clearwater. And on the bed beside her--

“Hermione!” Ron groaned.

She lay on the bed, perfectly still, face frozen in her last expression. His parents stood over Hermione’s bed, and immediately Lily came around the bed to hug Harry.

“They were found near the library,” Professor McGonagall said. “I don’t suppose either of you can explain this?” She held up a small mirror. “It was on the floor next to them.”

Harry and Ron both shook their heads.

McGonagall frowned. “I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower. I need to address the students, in any case.”

“One moment,” Dumbledore said, stepping away from Remus and Sirius. “I’d like a short word with Harry.”

“The Minister is--”

“Yes, I know. I’m sure Lily can safely escort him to his dormitory when we’re done, and I can meet the Minister.”

As McGonagall led Ron away, Remus shifted a little and said, “I’d also rather we were gone before the Minister arrives.”

Lily kept a tight hold on Harry’s shoulders as Dumbledore asked about the voice he’d heard before the Quidditch game, and he repeated exactly what had happened, what the voice had said, and how Hermione had run off to the library.

Dumbledore listened patiently, just like he had when Harry first told him about the terrifying voice, and when Harry was done, he looked at Remus and nodded. “I’m glad you came to me immediately, and I think you’re right, but knowing what the creature is tells us only so much about how to find it. It could be anywhere in this castle.”

“What is it?” Harry asked, but Lily squeezed his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it," she said. "We’ll see to it everything’s taken care of. You’ve got enough to be concerned about. Let us worry about catching the monster.”

“But I’m the only one who can hear it. Maybe I can help!”

Lily kissed his forehead and James said, “This is why we’re here: to do the scary parts so you don’t have to. That’s our job as parents.”

Harry didn’t like that answer, but he had no further arguments as Lily lead him upstairs to the dormitory. They arrived just as McGonagall was leaving.

The dormitory was in an uproar. The older students were suggesting the Slytherin students simply be kicked out. The younger students were huddled close together in tight corners, whispering to each other if they were talking at all.

Lily assured everyone that the teachers were doing everything they could, and repeated that the students were not to worry about it. They had exams coming that begged their attention.

Harry quickly found Ron and told him what Dumbledore had said--the adults knew what the monster was, and maybe Hermione had figured it out like Uncle Remus had. He also told Ron how the adults had told them to stay out of it, and Ron got angry too.

“Of course we’ve got to find it,” Ron said. “You’re the only one who can hear it.”

Harry suggested they visit Hagrid--”I’m sure he’s not behind it, but if he was the one who opened the Chamber the first time, he’ll know where to find the monster.”

Ron agreed, and they waited until their roommates were sound asleep. Then Harry pulled out his father’s Invisibility Cloak, and they headed downstairs.

It was slow going. Teachers and prefects patrolled the corridors in pairs, and Harry and Ron had to be absolutely silent as they slipped past their Professors. There was a close call when Ron stubbed his toe, only yards from where Professor Snape and Lily were standing guard. Luckily, Lily’s raised voice covered Ron’s swear.

“Honestly Severus, it’s only for one night, and we could use his help. You’re making a big deal out of nothing, for heaven’s sake.”

As much as Harry and Ron wanted to watch Lily scold Snape, they knew they risked getting caught if they stayed any longer.

The two boys hurried out of the castle and down to Hagrid’s hut. they kept the cloak on until they reached the door of Hagrid’s hut. They knocked and Hagrid opened the door with his crossbow aimed at them. They jumped back a step.

He lowered the arrow when he recognized them. “Oh. What’re you two doin’ here?”

Harry pointed at the crossbow. “What’s that for?”

“Nothin,” Hagrid muttered. “I’ve been expectin’--doesn’ matter--Sit down--I’ll make tea.”

But Hagrid seemed rather distracted and anxious. He spilled the kettle on the fire, accidentally smashed the tea kettle, and forgot to put tea into the hot water.

“Are you okay, Hagrid?” asked Harry. “Did you hear about Hermione?”

“Oh, I heard alrigh’!” he said. He sounded like he was choking on his fruit cake. Harry was surprised to see him this torn up. Hermione would be alright as soon as Professor Sprout’s Mandrakes were fully grown, which couldn’t be too far off.

There was another loud knock on the door and Harry and Ron quickly hid in a corner beneath the Invisibility Cloak. As soon as Hagrid was sure they were well-covered, Hagrid opened the door.

“Good evening, Hagrid.” Dumbledore stepped into Hagrid’s hut, followed by a round man with thin, gray hair and a lime green bowler hat clutched in his hands. Harry recognized him from the Daily Prophet--Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

\--- --- ---  
_  
August 23, 1976_

_Dear Regulus,_

_Congratulations on making Prefect! I’m so proud of you, and I’m sure your parents are too._

_Lucius and I truly enjoyed having you over to visit this summer. You made our house so much more lively than it usually is! It was ever so pleasant. I do think it’s made us a little eager for children of our own, now that you’re gone._

_But of course, with Lucius’s work at the Ministry, we couldn’t. Not right now. Maybe in a year or two._

_He was in a meeting with Minister of Magic Millicent Bagnold. She’s an interesting woman, I hear, but very old. I imagine she’ll be retiring soon. I told Lucius he should replace her, but he said he’s far too young and inexperienced. Maybe someday._

_Lucius did join the Board of Education for Hogwarts, though. Did you hear? I’m so happy for him. He has so much he wants to do to make education better. I am not sure if you’ll get to see all the changes, since you only have a few more years, but I certainly hope you get to._

_Please write to me about everything this year. I already miss you terribly._

_Love,_

_Narcissa_

\--- --- ---

Dear Dad,

You have friends at the Ministry of Magic, right? Hagrid isn’t opening the Chamber of Secrets. I know it. You have to talk to people and make sure they get him out of Azkaban. It isn’t fair.

And they need to bring Dumbledore back! Mr. Malfoy said all the board signed the paper to get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts, but that can’t be right. You have to fix it.

Can’t you talk to Mr. Weasley, or even Nymphadora or Mr. Moody? Someone should be able to do something.

Without Dumbledore, they’ll never catch the monster. What are we supposed to do?

Love,  
Harry


	15. Aragog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily enjoys being a teacher but it's the most stressful job of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to be away for the holiday weekend, so I wanted to get this out before then. Chamber of Secrets is officially complete, so expect a weekly chapter from here on out.  
> betad by ageofzero

Lily Potter enjoyed being a teacher more than she had expected. Though, that really wasn’t saying much because she had expected to hate it.

Patience was not something she considered her strongest suit. She frequently lost her temper with James, and she felt like she spent most of her time frustrated at him, Harry, or Sirius, or even at Remus. But after a tea with Minerva, she’d been reminded not only of her patience and tenderness as a prefect, but also that James was an especially trying case, and she shouldn’t judge herself harshly for losing patience with him. The fact that they had been married thirteen years was truly a testament to her enduring patience.

That gave her a bit of courage, and while she did find herself perpetually frustrated with her first and second years, she never lost her temper. And she found that she thoroughly enjoyed her N.E.W.T. level students.

She hadn’t considered the fact that her name alone bore a lot of weight with the older students. They would have been between four and six during the Wizarding War. They would have heard her name and Harry’s name all throughout their childhood. They were old enough to know about some of the more gruesome battles, and young enough to be curious about the details.

It wasn’t the praise or awe they gave her that she loved. It was the way they were so eager to learn Defense from her. They trusted her knowledge of the Dark Arts based on her personal experiences, and they wanted to know what she knew. She found that was her favorite part of teaching, and on the days she wasn’t teaching N.E.W.T. classes, it was much harder to get out of bed.

Being separated from James was also much harder than she expected. She’d thought he was being dramatic by complaining he’d only see her once a week. Truthfully, without Harry at the house, she’d grown quite bored and irritable. She’d been more than ready for a change, and she had to admit there was a small part of her that had been ready to leave James behind when she began teaching.

But of course, within the first two days she'd missed him more than anything. House-hunting that weekend in Hogsmeade had been the highlight of her week, and she wrote to him daily. Sometimes twice a day. He wrote to her just as frequently.

Now, however, she was more than glad she’d taken Lockhart’s teaching position. She couldn’t imagine leaving Harry and the rest of his classmates and peers in this school with only Lockhart standing between them and the monster that lay hidden in the Chamber.

He’d brandished his wand as Dumbledore left, saying they were sure to be rid of the beast now that Hagrid was leaving, but Lily felt unsettled in her stomach. She was glad she was here to stand with the other teachers and protect the students, even if she did dread re-teaching first years a Lumos Charm for the fifth time that month.

Monday, however was not a day for first years. She actually had her favorite class--the sixth and seventh year N.E.W.T. students--right after breakfast. She put on her usual purple robes and headed downstairs. She stared a moment too long, however, at the empty Headmaster’s seat, until Minerva sat down. They exchanged small, weary smiles.

Since Minerva was filling in as Headmistress in Dumbledore’s absence, and still teaching her Transfiguration classes, Lily and Severus had picked up a lot of the extra work that needed to be done. They organized the patrols for the teachers and prefects, and they made sure students were safely in bed and not too terrified to sleep. Lily tended to go back and forth between the Towers, and Severus stayed near Slytherin and Hufflepuff’s Common Rooms, so they did not see each other too often.

But when they could see each other, she tried to be friendly. So far, he hadn’t made it very easy.

They’d been paired together on patrol that first night after Hermione Granger had been Petrified. James had been paired with Gilderoy Lockhart, and while he seemed to have mixed feelings about being paired with the wizard who’d cost his son all the bones in his arm, he hadn’t said a word about Lily and Severus. Unfortunately, Severus had said enough words to make up for it.

Lily wondered if her friendship with Severus was only pleasant in hindsight. She believed they had been very good friends for many years, but they’d taken different paths in adulthood, and she didn’t know if they were able to repair that fracture.

Lily and James had talked about Severus over the years. A long time ago, Lily mentioned trying to repair her friendship with him, shortly after Harry was born, and James eventually came around to the idea. He still hadn’t been entirely convinced--“I don’t trust him or like him, Lils, but I do trust and love you, so if you think it’s a good idea, then sure,”--until Professor Dumbledore had made it very clear that he trusted Severus. James had been all about making friends with Sev after that.

Lily wondered if she ought to be offended that her husband trusted Dumbledore’s judgment over her own, but, then again, she would trust Dumbledore’s judgement over James’s.

So since they both agreed it couldn’t hurt to try to repair their relationship with Severus, Lily tried to make friends with Severus, especially during those first few days when she missed James the most. She really just needed a friend. Things went wonderfully that first week. They exchanged greetings at meals, he stopped by her classroom twice to make sure Fred and George Weasley weren’t causing her any trouble, and they even had tea with Hagrid one afternoon.

But when that first Saturday rolled around, and she mentioned she was going into Hogsmeade to look for a small cottage for her and James to share on weekends, Severus had turned cold. Now he barely spoke with her, and when he did it was to make a snide comment.

She wondered what he’d expected. That she would leave James and stay at Hogwarts with him? That their friendship would be just like it used to be? She’d become a different person over the last fifteen years, and she’d hoped Severus would want to get to know her as that new person. She wanted to share the last fifteen wonderful years of her life with him. She wanted to tell him about the first time Harry rode a broom, or the time a Griffin wandered into their backyard and James and Sirius thought it would be a good idea to wrestle it and she and Harry had come home to a house covered in mud. She wanted to tell him how scared she was about the prophecy, but every time she mentioned James or Harry, Severus would close up and become incredibly sharp with his words.

She’d learned to avoid talking about James in front of him, but it made her heart break. She felt like their new friendship was an illusion constructed of glass and colored light that could shatter with the barest touch. It didn’t feel like a friendship at all.

With these heavy thoughts, she arrived to her first class.

A few were scribbling down the final sentences of the essay she’d assigned over the weekend. Leo Nott, unsurprisingly, had his neatly rolled and tied with a yellow ribbon. It was sitting on his desk, ready to be handed in. He was the most studious Hufflepuff she’d ever met. His desk, however, was empty. He was hovering over Anne Scrimgeour’s desk, making teasing comments while she hastily finished her essay. 

The only student not either anxiously finishing their own essay or anxiously helping a friend was Percy Weasley, who sat quietly at his desk. Penelope Clearwater’s remained empty beside him. She would have given him a pass on the essay, or at least a few days' extension, but his essay was tied off and ready to turn into. So she gave him an encouraging smile and called the students to their seats.

“Essays forward.” As the students hastily tied ribbons around the scrolls, or added Qwick-Dry Sealing Wax to them, she asked, “Who wants to tell me one of the advantages of the Fidelius Charm’s protections?”

Leo raised his hand. She nodded in his direction.

“You can’t be found by anyone who doesn’t already know where you are.”

“Very good. That is, essentially, the point of the charm when used for locations. How many people can be privy to the knowledge of a Fidelius Charm?”

Miss Smythe answered, without waiting to be called on, “Seven.”

Lily raised her eyebrows, and a Gryffindor boy named Christian said, “As many as you want, Helena.”

Helena turned around in her seat to glare at him. “Seven is the most stable number.” She looked back at Lily. “Isn’t it, Professor?”

“True, seven is a healthy number in most spell work, Miss Smythe, but Mr. Thelborne is correct. The Fidelius Charm is actually not affected by the number of people who know of the secret.”

Leo Nott raised his hand. She knew he was going to say exactly what the class needed to hear, so she pointed to him.

“Anyone can be a part of the Charm, but seven Secret Keepers is the highest stable number of Secret Keepers.”

“Very good!” Lily said with a wide smile. “Now, someone tell me the drawbacks of the Fidelius Charm.”

Leo Nott raised his hand, but instead, Lily chose to call on Anne Scrimgeour.

Anne hesitated a moment before finally answering, “If something bad happens to your Secret Keeper, all your Secondary Keepers are made Primary Keepers.”

“Unless you’ve established an order of Secret Keepers, yes. Very good. That is the worst drawback of the spell, yes.”

Marcus Flint raised his hand, and though Lily was sure he had nothing useful to say, she tried to make a policy of never ignoring her students.

“Yes, Mr. Flint?”

“What if you made someone the Secret Keeper on your house, but the house caught on fire, and you couldn’t put it out, and your house would burn, and no one would be able to help you, because no one could see your house because it was under the Fidelius Charm. Then you would burn to death. That’s a drawback, right?”

Oliver Wood tried very hard not to laugh. He succeeded in looking like a very angry tomato with a twitchy mouth.

Lily turned her wand over in her hand. “Yes, that is technically a drawback to putting the Fidelius Charm on a house, and making its location the secret no one can know.”

Marcus grinned. “So if I wrote that in my paper, do I get full points?”

“If it’s in legible English,” she said, “then yes. Now everyone push your desks aside, it’s time for some wordless spell practice. I don’t want to hear a single _Leviosa_.” There was some groaning, but no verbal spells as the students cleared the floor to make space for dueling.

After her N.E.W.T. class, she had her Hufflepuff O.W.L. level students, who were their own kind of stress, very different from her first years. It wasn’t their fault that the biggest exam of their lives couldn’t be postponed because of the Chamber of Secrets. And the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor students were her most stressed students. She spent more time reassuring them that everything would be fine than she did actually reviewing exam content. She intended to be on topic today, though she would have to be gentle with her second year Gryffindors. Their anxiety over what had happened to Hermione Granger would still be fresh.

Reviewing with the Hufflepuffs proved to be difficult, not because they were weary and scared, but because Gilderoy Lockhart decided second period would be a perfect time to help out.

He had a habit of coming in and out of classes, careful to choose the ones where some of the girls were still loyal to him, and Lily could not actually force him out. Even though she was the teacher, Gilderoy Lockhart was still on the grounds as a consultant for her class, no matter how much she might wish he wasn’t. At least, after class, she forced him to be useful by walking her students down to History of Magic.

She had the second-year Gryffindors for her third class. They were far more subdued than they had ever been as they walked into her class, escorted by Professor Sprout. As they sat down, she noticed Harry was avoiding her eyes. She didn’t blame him for being upset they’d told him to leave the Chamber of Secrets situation to the adults.

With the class so glum, she assumed no one would be in the mood to learn a Tickling Charm, so she decided to review the Melofors Jinx. She dared a few students to cast it on her, though only Neville Longbottom (after much cajoling from Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan) managed to make any change--her face was as orange as a pumpkin, with an odd texture to it that was not quite flesh, not quite pumpkin. She laughed and turned her head back to normal.

At the end of class, she walked them down to History of Magic, and made sure the last class, her fifth year Hufflepuffs, made it safely to their Charms class, since Professor Binns was not a suitable escort. He might be enough to chaperon the students, but convincing him to break from his routine was truly impossible.

She had second-year Hufflepuffs for her fourth period, and they were a little more excited about the Melofors Jinx than her Gryffindor students had been. Hannah Abbot and Ernie Macmillan were whispering quietly to each other when they walked in. Ernie kept glancing at Lily, but Hannah kept pulling his attention back to her. She knew Ernie and Hannah were close with Justin Finch-Fletchley, so she let them be until after class.

As she escorted the class to their fifth period, she told Hannah that if they needed to speak to her about anything, they were welcome to ask.

Ernie frowned and Hannah shifted uncomfortably. “Thank you, Professor,” Hannah finally said.

Ernie, unusually, said nothing, and took Hannah’s hand as they walked into Transfiguration.

Lily reviewed Dark Creatures with her Gryffindor fifth-years, and thankfully Gilderoy Lockhart did not show up to make a performance during this lesson. She thought it might be because Gryffindors were more prone to spontaneous hexing than Hufflepuffs were.

After dinner, Lily escorted the Gryffindors back up to their tower. Again, she noticed Harry wouldn’t look at her, and neither would Ron. Harry wasn’t just upset with her--he and Ron had something reckless planned.

Lily left them without saying anything. She had a few hours to figure out what they were up to, and there would be plenty of teachers and prefects on patrol to catch them.

She wrote her daily letter to James, assuring him that she and Harry were still fine. She told him she had not yet heard from Dumbledore, but she did ask James if he would like to invite Lockhart over for tea during the week, if only to keep him from hovering in her classroom and boasting about the monster being vanquished.

She had her usual cup of evening tea as she graded her N.E.W.T. class’s essays on the Fidelius Charm. As unusually shy as Anne Scrimgeour had been in class, and for finishing her essay at the last minute, her grasp on the charm proved to be thorough. But Anne tended to stress over charms, Lily had noticed. Anne was one of those rare witches with a remarkable grasp on theory, though she struggled at actually producing strong Charms. Her Jinxes and Hexes, however, were a completely different story.

Marcus Flint’s, though riddled with sarcasm, humor, and absurdly morbid examples, was also accurate enough to receive an E. Oliver Wood’s was full of sour remarks about the cancelled Quidditch match, and all of his examples included Hufflepuff team captain Cedric Diggory meeting a violent end.

If nothing else, grading her N.E.W.T. student’s essays was entertaining.

Around midnight, she heard a knock on her door. She assumed it was Severus or Minerva, come to put her on patrol and was surprised to find Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot at her office door.

“What are you two doing out of bed?” But she was not about to send them back down the hall on their own, so she let them inside.

“You said we could ask you anything,” Ernie said.

“Of course, but at midnight, when you’re supposed to be in your dormitories is not really the best time, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s an emergency,” Hannah said.

“Did you ask Professor Sprout?”

Hannah shifted her feet. “She sleeps very heavily. And we thought… because you’re the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher….”

“Is it true you know what Petrified Justin?” Ernie asked.

Lily bit down on her tongue. “Who is saying that?”

“We heard Harry say it to Ron in Herbology today. He said that the teachers knew what the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was.”

“Is it a spider?” Hannah asked.

Lily took a deep breath. “We don’t want you to worry about the Chamber. I know, especially when your friends are hurt, it’s hard to sit by and let someone else take care of it. But we want you to focus on your studies and let your teachers handle this. Can you do that?”

Ernie didn’t answer. 

Hannah shook her head. “Justin is our friend. We can’t do nothing.”

Lily was not exactly surprised. Harry was very much the same way, except she imagined Harry would’ve lied to her, instead of being honest like Hannah. She wondered what Harry was doing right now to help Hermione.

“Did Harry, by chance, say anything else today about the Chamber of Secrets?”

Hannah and Ernie exchanged another glance.

“That was the other thing,” Hannah said slowly. “We didn’t want to tattle.”

“But I think we should tell you,” Ernie said quickly.

Lily knew Ernie very much liked to tattle. He liked thinking of himself as having an adult’s authority, and when he wasn’t treated like he had an adult’s authority, he went and got an adult’s authority. She noticed it more when he and Harry were younger. Ernie often tattled on Harry or Fred and George. But in these last few months at Hogwarts, she thought he’d gotten better now that he had his own friends, and didn’t have to compete for attention. Apparently he’d gotten better enough that Hannah Abbot could persuade him to keep quiet for a few hours.

“I honestly believe you should sort your own troubles out,” Lily said, “but if you think Ron and Harry are going to do something dangerous, please tell me.”

“They’re going to the Forbidden Forest,” Hannah blurted out.

Lily highly doubted Ron was willingly going into the Forbidden Forest. “Did they say why?”

“The spiders,” Ernie said. “Harry pointed at the spiders, and Ron said they couldn’t follow them just yet.”

Lily could very well ground Harry for an eternity. If he had been in front of her right then, he would have been done with Quidditch until he graduated from Hogwarts and he would have lost all summer visiting privileges.

She wondered if she could’ve prevented this by telling Harry what was in the Chamber of Secrets. She wondered if it was better to tell Harry everything. But he was only twelve, and there were things twelve-year-olds did not need to know.

“I’m very glad you told me,” she said slowly. “I’ll walk you back to your dormitories and take care of Harry and Ron.”

As soon as Ernie and Hannah were safely behind the barrel near the kitchen, Lily stormed up to the Gryffindor Common Room. She woke up Minerva McGonagall and together they discovered Harry and Ron were not in bed.

After convincing Dean and Seamus to get back in bed, they knew they had to go to the Forbidden Forest.

“We won’t catch up to them if we walk,” Lily said as Minerva led her outside the castle onto the grounds.

Instead of starting for the Forbidden Forest, Minerva started towards the Quidditch Pitch. “We’ll be taking the Slytherin team’s brooms.”

Lily wondered if that was the most effective course of action or if Minerva really just wanted an commandeer a Nimbus 2001.

“I don’t really fly--”

“The ride will be simple. The brooms are very well designed, and you’ll need to come because I couldn’t possibly fit both boys onto one broom.”

Lily swallowed hard as Minerva handed her a Nimbus 2001. It was a smooth handle, unlike the brooms she’d tried to ride when she was in school. She remembered her fifth date with James, when he’d offered to teach her to ride his broom. It was top-of-the-line then, advertised as a maximum of two knots per handle, and fifteen percent twig loss. She’d been thrown to the ground so hard, she’d woken up in the infirmary.

“It can tell when you’re nervous,” James had said. “Next time, you just need to relax a bit.”

The next time had been after the war, when Harry was learning to fly, and James had insisted they take Mommy-and-Son Flying classes together.

“Learning to fly a broom is an important skill,” he’d told her. “It’s like--like when you tried to teach me how to ride an un-motor-bike.”

Except James had never actually learned how to ride a bike, and Lily had only gotten the basics of flying. When she tried to play Quidditch with her boys (Sirius included), she was good for little other than launching fake Beaters at them. And even that required she take a hand off her broom, which made her shaky.

She took a deep breath as she mounted the broom, trying to remember James’s advice from their date. Shoulders straight and relaxed. Hands back a little. Little farther. Now kick off.

She followed Minerva as fast as she dared towards the Forbidden Forest.

“How will we find them?” she called over the wind.

There was a high-pitched scream that had to be Ron Weasley. Minerva dived sharply towards the forest. Lily followed at a more reasonable curve.

She and Minerva landed in a small clearing next to Harry and Ron--surrounded by huge spiders. Lily stifled a scream similar to Ron’s.

“Mum!” Harry shouted. “What are you doing here?”

Ron scrambled onto the back of Minerva’s broom without being asked to, and she shot upwards the moment he was straddling the handle. Lily wondered if it had been Ron or Minerva that actually took off.

“Get on!” she shouted to Harry.

Harry climbed onto her broom and shouted, “ _Depulso_ ,” but it bounced off the spider. Lily didn’t have time to correct him on how to fight an Acromantula.

“Wait!” he said before she could kick off. “Fang!”

Harry grabbed the collar of the giant boarhound and pulled it onto the broom, hanging over the middle. “Mum! Take off!”

She wanted to scream at him and cry all at once. She threw an Incendiary Jinx to keep the spiders from coming any closer.

“Harry, I can’t fly this with a dog!”

“Then you hold the dog!” he shouted back at her and climbed onto the front of the broom.

Lily put Fang between her and Harry and bit back a scream as Harry kicked off. They rocketed into the air and it was all she could do to keep one hand on the dog and the other on the broom.

Her heart was hammering when they touched back down on solid ground outside the castle. Fang went bounding off to Hagrid’s hut, howling desperately.

She wanted to shout at Harry, but she needed to collect her breath first. Minerva was already halfway through scolding Ron.

“--especially at a time like this!” she was saying. “You two could have been killed--would have been killed--if we hadn’t found you!”

“How’d you know where we were, Mum?” Harry asked.

Lily couldn’t understand why he was so calm. At least, he sounded calm. In the light of the half-moon, she could tell he was white as a sheet. Surely the spiders had terrified him as much as they had terrified her.

“It doesn’t matter how,” she said. “I’m just glad we found you in time. What were you thinking?”

“Hagrid said to follow the spiders for answers.”

“Oh, Hagrid said that, did he?”

“Yeah.” Harry adjusted his glasses. “And you weren’t giving us any answers, so we went to get them ourselves.”

He sounded so much like James. It was the same way Harry’d talked about smuggling a dragon out of the castle, and the same way James talked about running through Hogsmeade with a fully-transformed werewolf. They would do anything for their friends.

“Detention, both of you,” Minerva snapped. “From now until the end of the school year!”

“How are we supposed to serve those detentions if we aren’t allowed out of our dorms after six?” Harry asked.

Minerva, instead of being angered, considered it for a moment. “I suppose I’ll simply have to write to your parents and have them administer punishments as they see fit.”

“Mum’ll kill me,” Ron whispered.

Harry looked at Lily and she frowned. “For starters, that was the last time you’re ever flying a Nimbus 2001. I’ll be discussing with your father the rest of your punishment.”

Harry’s face fell.

After Minerva and Lily saw the boys back to their dormitories, Lily asked Minerva, “Do you think we should tell them? About the… monster?”

Minerva sighed heavily. “I hope running into Acromantulas taught them a valuable lesson about going into the Forbidden Forest at night. I don’t think it wise for them to know what the monster is. Knowing Harry and Mr. Weasley, I expect letting them solve the mystery of what is in the Chamber will prevent them from trying to solve the mystery of how to fight it.”

Lily thought that Harry would be much safer researching in the library than hunting for hidden corners where the Chamber might be hidden. But still, she decided that if nothing had been found by the end of the week, she would have to tell Harry and Ron everything she knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and headcanons are always appreciated!


	16. The Chamber of Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monster in the Chamber takes a student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost done! And I'm already halfway through my second read-through of Prisoner of Azkaban, so HOPEFULLY there won't be too long of a gap between books.

Breakfast the next morning was a bit glum for Harry and Ron. Rumor of their escapade in the Forbidden Forest had spread quickly, thanks to Dean, Seamus, and Neville. At some point it got around that Harry and Ron had actually fought the monster in the Chamber of Secrets and won, which was unfortunately not true.

Harry picked at his eggs. He wasn’t upset about being caught, really. He’d already sort of expected he wasn’t going to get a Nimbus 2001 this year. It hadn’t been the best year as far as staying out of trouble went. And, anyway, _Which Broomstick?_ had announced a new model coming out this summer. Reviews from early tests were already raving about it, and Harry was hoping he could convince Sirius to by him one. It wouldn’t be going against his parents--they’d only banned the Nimbus 2001. Sirius would totally buy him the new one. Sirius would understand about this whole mess.

Because Sirius understood it wasn’t about the trouble or the adventure. It was about not knowing. It was about being lied to and treated like a child. Maybe he was still a child, but he had also done a lot of things most children didn’t do. He’d faced Voldemort and won. Twice. He was so wrapped up in this Chamber of Secrets mess that it was impossible for him to ignore it.

He only wished his and Ron’s trip into the Forbidden Forest had yielded more clues. It seemed like a near death experience with Aragog’s family was worth more than a few scraps of information about the Chamber.

“At least we confirmed that Hagrid wasn’t the Heir of Slytherin,” Harry said, trying to think of anything encouraging from their escapade.

“Which means we still have no clue who is. If it isn’t Malfoy or Hagrid, who is it?” Ron gingerly nibbled on his toast?

“Moaning Myrtle might know. We’ve just got to find a way to ask her. But with the teachers escorting us to all our classes….”

Hedwig didn’t let him finish. She swooped down in front of him and dropped three letters. Harry already knew the contents of each one.

The first one was the thickest, with his name written in his Dad’s hand--sharp lines, with a slight lean to them. He set it aside. The second was addressed in Remus’s perfectly neat letters, so clean they could’ve been written on a Muggle typewriter. Harry debated on opening this one, or the one with Sirius’s loopy handwriting on it.

Harry decided to save Sirius’s for last and opened Remus’s.

Dear Harry,

I’m sure you’ve heard enough from your mother and father, so I won’t waste a lot of time on it, but it needs to be said: You should not be running off into danger especially at a time like this.

I’m very glad you’re safe, and your father is too, even if he doesn’t say it. But you need to be careful. There are so many people in this world who care about you and want to look after you. There is nothing wrong with letting them.

Love,

Uncle Remus

Harry had heard enough arguments between his parents, Sirius, and Remus to know that Remus’s closing advice was a lot like the cauldron calling the Bludger black. Or maybe just a hard-learned lesson. Either way, it made the rest of the letter harder to swallow.

He still didn’t feel ready to read his father’s, so instead he opened Sirius’s.

Dear Harry,

Sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest? Giant spiders? I’m surprised Ron made it out without getting a heart attack. And your mum flying a Nimbus 2001! Hah!

But seriously, you ought to be careful. There’s something dangerous in Hogwarts and you could get hurt. I know grown-ups are annoying--I fought with a fair few myself when I was your age--but we do mean well. It’s not that we don’t think you’re capable, but we don’t want to see you hurt. You do your job and be a kid and play Quidditch and throw hexes at bullies and sneak around secret passages, but please stay safe.

Love,

Sirius

Harry was a little irritated that Sirius had the nerve to scold him, even if it was only a little. He wasn’t sure he was ready for his father’s letter. It must’ve been bad if Sirius and Remus both had to admonish him to be careful.

But before he could open his father’s letter, an old gray owl crashed into the table and a red envelope tumbled onto Ron’s plate.

Ron picked the letter up from Errol then dropped it like it was made of sealing wax.

“What is it?” Dean asked, leaning over.

Neville choked on his potatoes. “That’s a Howler! You’d better open it. My mum ignored one from Gran once. The kitchen floor is still black from it.”

The letter was starting to smoke and Neville urged him to hurry. With shaky hands Ron pulled back the wax.

Neville, Ron, Harry, and Seamus all stuffed their fingers in their ears. Dean was a second too late.

The roar that filled the hall was deafening. Dust crumbled from the sky above them and into their eggs. Stuffing their ears did nothing to keep Mrs. Weasley’s shrill voice from drilling into their skulls.

“--RUNNING OFF INTO THE FOREST AT A TIME LIKE THIS! YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT! I’M SURPRISED YOU WEREN’T EXPELLED FOR A STUNT LIKE THAT! YOUR FATHER AND I NEARLY HAD A HEART ATTACK WHEN WE GOT THE LETTER FROM MCGONAGALL LAST NIGHT. WE DID NOT BRING YOU UP TO BE THIS RECKLESS. YOU AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED--”

Students from all tables were now looking over to see which of them had received the howler. Ron was so low in his seat that his head was barely visible above the table. Harry felt a little embarrassed his name was in it, but at least the Howler wasn’t for him.

“--I’VE HALF A MIND TO BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME! YOU’RE LUCKY YOU’VE ONLY GOT FINALS LEFT YOUNG MAN, AND IF YOU GET SO MUCH AS AN “ACCEPTABLE” ON ANY EXAMS YOU’LL BE GROUNDED FOR THE ENTIRE SUMMER.”

With that, the letter burst into flames and the ashes settled on Ron’s breakfast. For a half of a minute, Harry wondered if it was going to put itself back together and start over, like Fawkes, but it remained silent in the hall. Until Fred and George started an applause that rumbled through the entire Great Hall.

This made Harry feel even worse, because even though the students were cheering, he could feel Professor McGonagall and his mother’s eyes on him, clearly unhappy their peers were praising their misadventure.

Still, Harry thought that after enduring that letter, he could endure anything his father had to say.

He pulled open the parchment flap and began to read the first of three pages.

Dear Harry,

I received letters from both your mother and Professor McGonagall last night. I’m terribly disappointed you thought to run off like that, and I was terrified for your safety. I really wish your mother would start her letters with, “Harry’s fine, but…” instead of just launching into the horrific parts and telling me you’re alright at the end.

I know you’re upset that we’re not telling you everything. I know it isn’t easy when adults keep things from you. You’re twelve, and incredibly talented for your age. You’ve done so many amazing things and proven yourself to be a clever and brave wizard. Truthfully, your mother and I are just very afraid to let you go.

We love you so much, Harry, and we want you to be safe and grow up and have a wonderful future with friends and family. I know you feel like nothing can hurt you--the downside of being ‘The Boy Who Lived’ I suppose--but you’re only human. Acromantula can kill you. So can a lot of other things in the Forbidden Forest. It isn’t smart and it isn’t safe to wander around in there, especially when there’s a monster going around petrifying students.

And I know it’s especially hard to do nothing when your friends are hurt. That might be one of the hardest things in the world.

I remember when your mother and I went into hiding. It was shortly after she got pregnant with you, actually, and it was the hardest time in my life. I had to sit back and do nothing while Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene and all my friends got to go off and fight Voldemort. But your mother and I could do nothing. We had to “stay safe.”

And it got harder when people started getting hurt. We don’t like to talk about how awful the war really was, not because we don’t think you can handle it, but because it isn’t easy for us. I still remember when Peter brought us the news that Marlene and her family had died. Or when Emmeline wrote to me that the Bones family had been killed. Or when we heard about Benjy Fenwick. I remember being so hurt and so angry I wanted to do something. But your mother and I couldn’t, because we had to keep you safe. We had to stay in hiding. Eventually we went so deep into hiding we couldn’t even see Remus. It was only Peter, Sirius, and Dumbledore who knew where we were. There was nothing I could do to help my friends and that was the hardest part.

Sometimes the sacrifices we have to make seem like the wrong ones. I know you want to help Hermione, but please trust us to help Hermione. Keeping yourself safe is the best thing you and Ron can do for her.

Love,

Dad

Harry was speechless. He had expected a scolding like the one Mrs. Weasley had given Ron, but it hadn’t been a scolding at all. His father had been more understanding than Sirius. More than even Remus, really. Maybe Sirius and Remus couldn’t relate to his inability to help Hermione the way his dad could.

Ron nudged his shoulder. “Harry, we’re going to be late for Transfiguration.”

Harry adjusted his glasses. “Oh, I’m coming.” He glanced up at the teacher’s table and saw his mother making her way to the door. “Just a sec.”

He ran around the Gryffindor table and caught her just as she reached the exit. He didn’t say anything at first. He only threw his arms around her and buried his face into her shoulder. He didn’t care if anyone was looking. He didn’t care if Malfoy saw. He did try not to cry, but he couldn’t help himself. He hiccoughed just once.

“I’m sorry, Mum,” he said.

She hugged him back as tightly as he hugged her. “I’m just glad you’re safe. I take it that it wasn’t Mrs. Weasley’s scolding that made you apologize?”

“No--Dad. He told me about--about being in hiding and--” He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that made him care so much all of a sudden. He didn’t know how to put it into words.

His mother stared at him, and he wasn’t sure if he was reading her expression right. She looked like she was going to cry too.

But she didn’t. She leaned down just a bit to kiss his forehead. “Your father and I love you, very much. Now you’re going to make me late for class and Percy’ll have to find me and give me a detention. Go on, don’t be late.”

Harry laughed and let her go. He wiped his eyes dry and nodded. “Okay. I--Mum, I love you too.”

She smiled, and then she went upstairs to her classroom. Harry hurried off to Transfiguration. He slid into his seat just as Professor McGonagall began to remind them that final exams were coming in just two weeks.

“Exams?” howled Seamus Finnigan. “We’re still getting exams?”

Neville Longbottom accidentally vanished the table leg of his desk in a panic.

“The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education.” She repaired Neville’s desk. “The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you all are studying hard.”

Harry had no idea how they were going to study without Hermione. 

Ron leaned over and whispered to Harry, “Can you imagine me taking exams with this?” Ron gestured to his wand, which was whistling like a kettle on the stove.

He and Ron did their best to study. It was very odd without Hermione, and all the Gryffindors in their year noticed the difference. Dean was asking Neville to go over the difference between Fluxweed and flaxseed, which wasn’t helpful because Neville didn’t know what flaxseed was. Seamus was begging Parvati to share Padma’s Potions notes, and Harry and Ron were trying desperately to piece together the last eight months of History of Magic.

On Friday at breakfast, Professor McGonagall announced to the school that she had important news for everyone.

“Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with us catching our culprit.”

The entire room erupted into applause and cheering, except for, Harry noticed, Draco Malfoy.

Ron nudged his shoulder. “It won’t matter that we didn’t get a chance to talk to Moaning Myrtle! When Hermione wakes up, she’ll have all the answers! Mind you, she’ll go crazy when she finds out we have exams in a week and she hasn’t studied at all. Might be kinder to leave her alone until they’re all over.”

Harry was going to agree, and point out how displeased Draco looked, when Ginny suddenly sat between them. She did not make eye contact with either of them; instead, she was focused on her hands in her lap.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asked.

Ginny didn’t say anything. She looked odd, rocking back and forth and chewing her lip. She reminded Harry a little of Dobby, when Dobby was about to say something he shouldn’t.

“Come on, spit it out,” Ron said.

“I’ve got to tell you something,” she finally said, without looking up at either of them.

“What?” asked Ron.

Ginny couldn’t seem to find the words.

Harry leaned close and whispered, so no one else could hear him, “Is it something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something?”

Ginny drew in a deep breath and Harry was so sure she was going to say something important when Percy Weasley suddenly appeared.

“All finished eating, Ginny? I’ll take that seat if you don’t mind.”

Ginny disappeared faster than Scabbers before a Transfiguration exam.

“Percy!” Ron said. “She was about to tell us something important!”

Percy suddenly looked very uncomfortable, more uncomfortable than Harry had ever seen him in his life.

“I’m sure it was nothing,” he said, and quickly took a sip of his tea.

\--- --- ---

Harry, though he’d been put off from investigating the Chamber both by studying and trying to make up for his venture into the Forest to his parents, felt reinvigorated to search after Ginny’s near-confession.

He took advantage of his mother’s distraction as Gilderoy Lockhart paraded his way into their Defense Against the Dark Arts class. “Let’s try to talk to Moaning Myrtle,” he whispered to Ron.

“But Hermione will be awake tonight,” Ron whispered back.

“It can’t hurt,” Harry said.

Ron frowned, then shrugged his shoulders.

The rest of the class was mostly Lily and Lockhart arguing over whether or not centaurs and unicorns could be fought with the same spells. Lily insisted it was irrelevant because one should never need to fight either, but if it was relevant, the spells had to be different. Lockhart insisted you should fight both and with the same spells. Near the end of class, Lavender Brown raised her hand and said, “Which one will be on the exam?”

In a huff, Lily dismissed them five minutes early and told Lockhart to escort them to History of Magic.

“Why should I--”

“Because I have a class to prepare for!” she shouted at him. “Get out, please.”

Lockhart sniffed and held the door open for the students. 

About halfway down the hall, Harry said, “You know, you really don’t need to escort us.”

Ron jumped in. “Yeah, you know Hagrid’s gone, so there isn’t even really a monster to protect us against, right?”

“My thought’s exactly, boys, but Professor Potter is quite insistent.”

“She’s alright,” Harry said. “My dad handles her pretty easily. She just needs a firm talking to sometimes. You can’t back down with her is all. Don’t waste your time walking us to class. Go tell her exactly what you think of her.”

Lockhart considered this. “Alright, I think I will.”

As soon as Lockhart was out of earshot, Ron doubled over in laughter. “Your Mum’s going to kill him.”

Harry nodded. “And we won’t miss him at all. Come on.” He and Ron slipped down a side passage and headed for Myrtle’s bathroom. They didn’t make it very far before they were caught by Professor McGonagall.

“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?”

Harry knew if they said they were investigating the Chamber, they’d likely be expelled on the spot. He’d never fly a broom again.

“We--We were--we are--” Ron stammered.

“Hermione,” Harry said quickly. “We’re going to see Hermione. We hadn’t seen her in a while, and we just thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready, and, um, not to worry.”

Professor McGonagall’s entire posture changed. Her voice became soft and Harry thought her eyes were glistening with tears. “Of course. Of course, I’m so sorry, I should have realized this has been hardest on friends. Go along, and tell Madam Pomfrey you have my permission.”

They quickly headed towards the infirmary and Ron whispered, “Blimey. That was the best story you’ve ever come up with.”

It was clever, but now they had no choice but to go to the infirmary to visit Hermione.

Madam Pomfrey was not very happy to see them, even when they told her Professor McGonagall had given them permission.

“There’s just no point in talking to a Petrified person,” she said, but let them in anyway.

There really didn’t seem to be any point to being there. Hermione was completely still. They would’ve had a better time talking to one of the castle’s suits of armor.

Ron looked down at her sadly. “Do you really think she saw who attacked them? What if they just snuck up on her?”

Harry wasn’t really listening. He noticed a piece of paper clenched in Hermione’s hand and pointed it out to Ron.

“Can you get it out?” Ron asked. Ron looked around for Madam Pomfrey and carefully shielded Harry from her view while Harry tried to pull the piece of paper out.

It was tightly wedged in Hermione’s fist and Harry had to be careful not to tear it. Eventually, he managed to get the paper out. It looked like an old sheet from a book. Harry was a bit shocked Hermione would tear a page out of a library book. It must’ve been important.

“What’s it say?” Ron asked.

Harry read it quickly.

“A basilisk,” he whispered. “That’s what the monster is. That’s why I’m the only one who can hear it. It’s a snake.”

“A basilisk?” Ron gulped. “Those things are huge, aren’t they? I thought they weren’t real.”

“They kill just with a stare,” Harry breathed. “That’s why Hermione and Penelope had the mirror. So they could look around corners. Justin saw it through Nearly Headless Nick. And Colin looked through his camera. And Mrs. Norris…. the floor! The floor was flooded from Moaning Myrtle. She must’ve only seen the basilisk’s reflection.”

Ron took the paper from Harry. “Even spiders are terrified of it. That’s why they’re all leaving the castle.”

“And a rooster’s crow is fatal to it. Hagrid mentioned something was killing the roosters.” Harry was immediately wondering where they could get their hands on a rooster to make it crow. He didn’t know how else you fought a basilisk.

“But how’s no one seen it? A giant basilisk roaming the school? You’d think someone would’ve spotted its tail.”

Harry pointed to Hermione’s handwriting in the margins of the paper. “The pipes. Remember Aragog told us Moaning Myrtle died in a bathroom? I’ll bet you anything that’s where the Chamber of Secrets is.”

“We need to tell Professor McGonagall,” Ron said.

Harry nodded, and they headed towards the staffroom. They weren’t sure if she would be in there yet, but she had to show up there by lunch time.

It was empty when they arrived, but they went in anyway, thinking it would be better to be caught in the staffroom than waiting in the hallway outside of it.

But instead of a teacher arriving, Professor McGonagall’s voice carried through the castle.

“All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom. Immediately, please.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other. 

“Another attack?” Harry asked.

“What’ll we do? Should we go back to the dormitory?”

Harry looked around the staffroom. “Quick, let’s hide in this wardrobe. Let’s hear what happened, then tell them what we know.”

Harry and Ron quickly climbed into the closet and listened as the halls filled with students and teachers filtered into the staffroom. Harry pulled back a velvet robe that smelled like Doxy so he could see out. Some professors looked confused. Some looked scared. None seemed to know what had happened.

Finally, Professor McGonagall arrived.

“It has happened,” she told the professors. “A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself.”

Snape’s voice was cold and thin. “How can you be sure?”

“The Heir of Slytherin left another message. Right underneath the first one. ‘Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.’”

Professor Flitwick burst into tears.

“Which student?” Lily asked. Her voice sounded dry, like the time Harry had come home from the zoo with Sirius and she’d heard about him being a Parseltongue.

“Ginny Weasley.”

Ron sank down to the floor of the wardrobe. Harry reached into his pocket and gripped his wand.

He felt angry and hurt. If his mother had just told him the monster was a basilisk, they wouldn’t have wasted time. He could’ve told her what he knew about Moaning Myrtle. Maybe they would have found the Chamber faster. Maybe they could’ve saved Ginny. But his mother hadn’t told him, and now Ginny was gone.

“We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow,” said Professor McGonagall. “This is the end of Hogwarts.”

The staffroom door banged open again. Harry, for a brief moment, thought it was Dumbledore, returned to save the day.

But it was only Lockhart, holding a cloth against his nose. “So sorry. Had a bit of an accident with a pixie. What have I missed?” he asked.

Lily looked like she was going to reach out and strangle him. Her face was nearly as red as her hair.

But Snape stepped forward first. “Just the man,” he said. “The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last.”

Lockhart’s face went white and he lowered his handkerchief enough to reveal something black oozing from the bridge of his nose.

“That’s right, Gilderoy,” Professor Sprout said sweetly. “Weren’t you saying just last night that you’ve known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”

“Yes,” Professor Flitwick said quickly, “didn’t you tell me you were already planning the title of your next book? Banishing a Basilisk, I believe it was.”

“I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn’t had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested,” said Snape. “Didn’t you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should’ve been given a free rein from the first?”

Lockhart stared at the Professors--except for Lily, who he very carefully avoided.

“I--I really never--you may have misunderstood--”

“We’ll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy,” said Professor McGonagall. “Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We’ll make sure everyone is out of your way. You’ll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last.”

Lockhart looked among the teachers one more time for support, but found none. “V-very well. I--I truly, truly wish I could help, but you see, with my nose in this shape--”

“Madam Pomfrey will be more than happy to fix it, I’m sure,” Professor McGonagall said. “Or we have two teachers skilled in the Dark Arts who’d be more than happy to help if you find yourself not up to task.”

Lockhart seemed to shrink at the thought of letting Lily near his nose. “I’ll just--get ready in my office, then.”

And he left.

McGonagall took a deep breath and turned to face the teachers. “Right, that’s got him from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. The rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories. Lily, will you speak to Gryffindor House for me? I will need to make arrangements with the Hogsmeade train station and write to Molly and Arthur Weasley.”

As soon as the teachers were gone, Harry and Ron stepped out of the closet.

“We should hurry back before my mum catches us,” Harry said.

“I think we should go see Lockhart,” Ron said.

“What? Why? He can’t actually do anything.”

“He’s going to the Chamber, isn’t he? He knows where it is, but we can tell him about Moaning Myrtle. Maybe she knows something that can help.”

Harry weighed getting caught by his mother against helping Ginny. He remembered what his dad had said, about how sometimes the best thing was to do nothing. But Harry was angry, because he thought this could have been prevented if he had only been told about the basilisk sooner. So he nodded.

“Let’s go help Lockhart. He’s going to need all the help he can get, anyway.”

Harry and Ron ran to Gilderoy Lockhart’s office, down the hall from his mother’s. At least he didn’t have to be worried she was in there.

They knocked on Gilderoy Lockhart’s door.

He opened it the tiniest crack. “Oh, Mr. Potter--Mr. Weasley--” He pulled the door back a bit. “I’m rather busy at the moment, if you would be quick--”

“We’ve got information,” Harry said. “We think it will help you.”

“Er--well, it’s not terribly--” Lockhart hesitated, then opened the door. “I mean, well, alright.”

He let them into his office.

It was completely torn apart. His trunks lay open on the floor, colorful robes hastily stuffed into them. Books were tossed haphazardly into their own trunk. The portraits of Lockhart were stuffed into a box.

“You’re… leaving?” Harry said.

“Er, well, yes. Urgent call. Unavoidable. Got to go.”

“But--my sister!” Ron said.

“Well, as to that--most unfortunate. No one regrets more than I--”

Harry tightened his hands into fists. He’d been willing to accept that Lockhart was not as good a wizard as his mum, but to accept that Lockhart was a complete coward was not an option. “You can’t go now! You spend all year bragging over my mum’s classes about the great things you did in your books--”

“Books can be misleading.”

“You wrote them!”

Lockhart sighed. “Do use your common sense. My books wouldn’t have sold half as well if people didn’t think I’d done all those things. No one wants to read about some ugly old Armenian warlock, even if he did save a village from werewolves. He’d look dreadful on the front cover. No dress sense at all. And the witch who banished the Bandon Banshee had a harelip. I mean, come on--”

“So you’ve just been taking credit for what a load of other people have done?” Harry was shocked, but also, that explained a lot of Lockhart’s absolute incompetence in the classroom.

“It’s not nearly as simple as that. There was work involved. I had to track these people down, hear their stories, ask them all the gritty details. Then I had to put a Memory Charm on them so they wouldn’t remember doing it. If there’s one thing I pride myself on, it’s my Memory Charms. No, it’s been a lot of work, Harry. If you want fame, you have to be prepared for a long hard slog.”

He closed his trunks and took out his wand. “Now, the only thing left is to put a Memory Charm on you boys. Can’t have you blabbing my secret everywhere. I’d never sell--”

“ _Expelliarmus_!” Harry said quickly.

Lockhart fell backwards and his wand went flying. Ron jumped and caught it, then threw it out the open window. The same way the pixies had with his.

Harry kept his wand pointed at Lockhart. “Too bad Snape and my Mum actually know a thing or two about Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“What d’you want me to do?” said Lockhart weakly. “I don’t know where the Chamber of Secrets is. There’s nothing I can do.”

“You’re in luck,” Harry said, and pulled Lockhart to his feet. “We think we know where it is. Let’s go.”

Harry and Ron led Lockhart out of his office and down to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Harry wondered if his mother noticed he was not in the Common Room yet. He could go get her now, but he was afraid to waste any time. They needed to get to Ginny first. And even if Lockhart was a coward, he was technically an adult.

When they arrived at Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, she was perched on the tank of her usual toilet.

“Oh, it’s you. What do you want? Come to throw another book at me?”

“Actually,” Harry said, “we were wondering how you died.”

Moaning Myrtle looked as if someone had just given her a box of Chocolate Frogs for Christmas. “Ooh, it was dreadful.” She floated off the toilet and swooped over towards them. “It was right in this very stall. I’d hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny, in a different language. But it was a boy’s voice, so I unlocked the door to tell him to go away and then--That’s when I died.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“No idea. I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. And then everything sort of stopped. But I was determined to stay and haunt Olive Hornby. Oh, was she sorry she’d ever laughed at my glasses.”

“Where did you see the eyes?”

“Over there,” she pointed towards the sink just behind Harry.

Harry and Ron quickly began to examine it, though Lockhart lingered behind. Finally, Harry found a small snake etched on one of the copper taps. He turned the knob and nothing happened.

“Try Parseltongue,” Ron suggested.

Harry had to concentrate very hard. It was easy to speak Parseltongue to a snake, a living snake. But he wasn’t actually positive how to translate the words he wanted to say. They just sort of did it themselves. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told the sink to open up.

The sink sank down into the floor, revealing a huge pipe that slid down into inky blackness.

“I’m going down there,” Harry said, far more confident than he felt. He had to save Ginny.

“I’m going too,” Ron said. He tightened his grip on his wand, though Harry wasn’t sure it would do him much good.

“Well, you hardly seem to need me,” Lockhart said.

Harry leveled his wand at him. “You’re going in first.”

“Now, boys, what good will it do?”

But Harry jabbed him forward and Ron pushed him into the Chamber.

Harry went down next. It was slimy and seemed to go on forever. He heard Ron behind him. Eventually, the pipe leveled out, and he landed on a damp, dark, stone floor. It was cold, wherever they were. Ron came out right behind him.

“I bet it’s under the lake,” Ron said, and squinted at the shiny black walls.

“Lumos,” Harry said, and they started down the tunnel because it seemed there was no way to go back.

“Remember,” Harry said, “if you see something move, close your eyes.”

But they saw nothing. The tunnel was dead quiet. The only sound was the crunch of a single rat skull under Ron’s boot.

Ron grabbed Harry’s shoulder suddenly. “Up there,” he whispered, “can you see it?”

It looked like the huge curved body of the snake, but it wasn’t moving. Harry stepped closer and realized the snake had shed its skin here. The snake itself had to be enormous to leave behind something this big.

Lockhart collapsed behind them.

“Oh, get up,” Ron said.

Lockhart did, then dived at Ron, wresting his wand from him.

“The adventure ends here, boys!” he said. “I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. Say goodbye to your memories.”

He raised Ron’s wand, and before Harry could shout a counter spell, Lockhart said, “ _Obliviate!_ ”

There was an explosion that forced Lockhart backwards. The Chamber rumbled. Harry dived out of the way of falling bits of ceiling. When the dust settled and his lungs cleared, he found he was alone.

“Ron! Ron are you alright!”

“I’m here,” Ron shouted back. It came from the other side of a wall of rubble. “Lockhart got blasted by my wand, though…. What now? We can’t get through.”

“Wait here,” Harry called back. He looked at the rubble and the ceiling. There didn’t seem to be any easy way to get through safely. At least none that he knew of. “If… If I’m not back in an hour….”

Ron didn’t answer for a moment. Finally, he said, “I’ll try to make a pathway, so you and Ginny can get back…. And Harry--”

“I’ll see you in a bit,” Harry said, and plunged ahead.

The tunnel went on for a lot longer. Harry thought about his father’s letter, and Remus’s letter, and Sirius’s letter. He thought about the hug he’d given his mother just a few days ago, and how he’d apologized. He wanted to be angry, to think that if only she had apologized back, if she'd told him everything she knew, maybe Ginny wouldn’t have been taken, and maybe he wouldn’t be stuck down here. But mostly he just felt sad, and a little scared, and he thought maybe he would’ve liked to have his mother come down here with him instead of Gilderoy Lockhart.

But he was alone as he approached a door engraved with emerald snakes. This was it. “Open,” he whispered in a faint low hiss, and the door to the Chamber of Secrets swung open.


	17. The Heir of Slytherin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily enters the Chamber.

p>Lily Potter delivered the news about Ginny Weasley to a crowded Gryffindor Common Room.

One of the first year boys started to cry. Percy looked like he might be sick. Lavender Brown stifled a sob.

“Of course we are doing everything we can to find her,” Lily said quickly. “And we’ll safely see you all onto the Hogwarts Express first thing tomorrow morning. For now, we need you to stay in your dormitories where it’s safe. Listen to your Prefects.” She motioned to Head Girl Kit Cairn and the two Prefects--Anne Thelborne, and her older brother Christian.

“Percy, Fred, George, and Ron--” she paused, realizing she hadn’t seen Ron. Or Harry. She scanned the room quickly. In a thin voice she asked, “Where are they? Where are Ron and Harry?”

No one had an answer for her. They shifted uneasily and whispered to each other.

Neville Longbottom finally said, “They didn’t make it to History of Magic class. We haven’t seen them since.”

Lily was afraid her heart was going to stop beating at any moment. Never in her life had she had to worry so much about Harry in such a small span of time. This week alone seemed far more stressful than eighteen months of hiding had been.

“Percy, Fred, and George, come with me. The rest of you--Miss Cairn is in charge. She’ll take care of you. And Miss Cairn, I’ll see to it a professor is posted outside your door immediately.”

Kit Cairn nodded.

Lily led the Weasley boys out of the portrait hole.

“Hey, Perce,” Fred said quietly. “It’s going to be okay.”

Percy sniffled. “I’m fine.” His voice cracked a little, but when Lily glanced back at him, he looked determined to be fine, so she said nothing.

“Ron went after Ginny, didn’t he?” George asked.

“We’re going too,” Fred said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lily snapped. “You’re going to meet your parents, and you’re going to stay with your parents until we find Ginny and Ron. You can’t imagine the stress your parents must be under right now, and I will not have you add to it by being reckless.” The words she wished she could say to Harry. It really seemed like he understood her when he had apologized the other day. Clearly, she had been wrong.

She took the Weasley boys to Minerva’s office.

“Oh, thank you,” Minerva said. “Molly and Arthur are on their--Where’s Ronald?”

Lily took a moment to be sure she could get the words out without breaking. “He and Harry haven’t been seen since they were in my class. Gilderoy,” she spat his name out, “was supposed to walk them to History of Magic.”

Minerva sank into a chair. “Oh, dear. Where could they have gone?”

Lily felt like a hole had opened in her chest. “They must know where the Chamber of Secrets is.” Was this her fault for not telling Harry about the basilisk? If she had told him, could she have prevented him from going into the Chamber? Would he have told her where it was? Did he know what he was facing?

“If they knew, I believe they would have told us,” Minerva said.

Lily wasn’t so sure. “Did they say anything to any of you?” she asked the Weasley boys.

All of them shook their head.

“Believe me,” Fred said, “we’ve been looking for the Chamber of Secrets all year.”

“No luck, though,” George sighed.

“And you have no idea where Ron and Harry might’ve gone?”

The twins exchanged a glance.

“What are you hiding?” she shouted suddenly, and slammed her hand on Minerva’s desk. “Your brother and sister and my son are missing. If you know anything at all, you should tell us now.”

Fred, George, Percy, all jumped at Lily’s outburst. She didn’t care. Patience was not a virtue today. There was no time to waste.

“I don’t know if it’s helpful,” George said.

“It might not even be relevant,” said Fred. “But Ron and Harry and Hermione spent a lot of time around Christmas in the third floor girl’s bathroom.”

“I knew it,” Percy said, but he didn’t look very cheered to be right.

“We saw Ginny go there a few times too,” George added. “We just didn’t think--We just thought they were talking to Moaning Myrtle.”

“Though I don’t know who would willingly talk to Moaning Myrtle,” Fred added under his breath.

“The ghost in the lavatory?” Lily said, a bit bewildered. “How is that relevant?”

“We told you it might not be,” George said. “But that’s all we can think of.”

Lily pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. I’ll at least talk to Myrtle. Maybe they told her something, or she saw something.”

“Be careful, Lily,” Minerva said. “If you’d like me to alert Severus--”

“He needs to take care of the Slytherin students. And send Charity to the Gryffindor Tower, if you could.”

Minerva nodded. “I will see that the students are taken care of. Be safe.”

Lily nodded. She thought about how fifteen years ago, jumping into the war, she would have smiled heading into danger like this. That was before she had a husband and a child and a family she was terrified to lose.

She made her way to the girls’ lavatory on the third floor. She remembered how often it had flooded when she was a student, but it was strangely dry today. Carefully, Lily pushed open the door. She opened her mouth to call for Myrtle, but before she could get the words out, she saw the sink.

Or really, the lack of sink.

Where there should have been a sink, there was a giant pipe that disappeared beneath the ground.

Lily looked down into the dark tunnel. Had Harry really gone down that? She thought he probably had. And Ron was probably with him. And there was probably a basilisk down there waiting to kill and eat them.

Lily took a deep breath and plunged into the hole.

It felt like it went on for miles. It was wet and slimy and Lily was glad she was not claustrophobic. Sirius and Remus would’ve had a hell of a time coming down here.

The tunnel shot her out along a cold stone floor. Her robes were covered in a strange and moist slime. She guessed by the cool air that she was somewhere under the Black Lake, far from the castle above.

When she stood, she was hit by the thought that she had no idea how to kill a basilisk. Maybe she could conjure a rooster.

The important part was saving Harry, Ron, and Ginny. The basilisk could wait, especially now that they knew where it was. If she was lucky, she wouldn't have to fight it at all. Though luck didn't seem to be on her side this week.

Lily started down the tunnel by the light of her wand. She noticed cracks in the ceiling and in the walls. Part of her hoped there was a cave-in ahead, and she would find Harry and Ron unable to pursue the monster any farther down the Chamber.

It turned out she was half-right.

She found the cave-in, and Ron carefully trying to clear out rubble to make a path.

“Ronald Weasley!” she shouted.

Ron froze, a rock still in his hands, and then slowly turned around. “Mrs. Potter--Er, Professor.”

“What were you thinking? Where’s Harry? Is he alright?”

“I think so….”

The she saw Gilderoy Lockhart sitting near Ron, beaming at her. “What a lovely young lady,” he said. “You have such beautiful eyes, you know. Is this your home?”

Lily frowned. Had Lockhart not learned enough after she nearly hexed his nose off? There was something seriously wrong with him. She decided to ignore Lockhart for the moment. “Ron, tell me what’s going on.”

So Ron did. He told her how they’d discovered the monster was a basilisk, and how the spiders had told them what they needed to find the Chamber. He told her about Lockhart being a fraud, and how they’d forced him into the Chamber with them. And he told her about the cave-in, and how Harry had gone on to save Ginny.

Lily quickly examined Gilderoy Lockhart while Ron told the story. Lockhart seemed enamored with her eyes and curious about the wedding ring on her finger, but all-in-all, he was in decent health. He seemed so dazed and confused, she decided to fix the jinx she’d put on his nose.

Then she began examining the wall. She thought if she could strengthen the ceiling, she might be able to clear away enough rubble to get through. She set her jaw and muttered a few spells at the ceiling.

When she was reasonably confident it would hold, she pointed her wand at the bottom of the rubble mountain and said, “Reducto.”

The stones shook and a few loosened. She and Ron managed to pull enough of the rubble aside to create a small hole. Ron tried to climb through, but she grabbed his robes and pulled him back.

“Go back and see if you can find a way out,” she said.

“I can help,” Ron said.

“Yes, and I just told you how. Ginny and Harry will be fine. Please, listen and go back. Your mum and dad should be at the castle by now, and they’ll want to know you’re safe.”

Ron hesitated, an unusual fire in his eyes. She thought of Harry, and how Harry had looked when he’d asked her what was in the Chamber of Secrets, and instead of telling him she’d tried to protect him. She just wanted to protect Ron now.

“Please, Ronald,” she said desperately. “I’ll find Harry and Ginny. They’ll be okay. I need you to take care of Lockhart for me, and we’ll need a way out when I come back.”

“I’ll wait thirty minutes,” Ron said.

Lily nodded. That seemed reasonable. She climbed through the rubble.

It was a long walk through the tunnel still, until she came to the door inlaid with emerald snakes. They seemed to dance in the light of her wand and it terrified her. The door, however, was open. She stepped towards it, but stopped when she heard voices.

“And why did you want to meet me?” Harry’s voice echoed clearly through the tunnel until it reached her ears.

Lily began to run.

A voice answered Harry--“It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin’s heir.”

Every muscle in her body froze, from her legs to her heart. She knew that voice. It was younger than she remembered, but she knew it.

“From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery--particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn’t much life left in her…. She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last…. I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you’d come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter.”

That voice, she knew that voice, after twelve years--

“Like what?” Harry spat.

“How is it that you--a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent--managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort’s powers were destroyed?”

A chill ran down Lily’s spine and she knew suddenly why that voice was familiar. It truly was Voldemort’s voice. Younger, smoother, and far more charming than when she’d heard it, but it was the same voice.

She needed to get to Harry. Harry couldn’t face Voldemort. Not now. He was only twelve. He was only twelve, she thought desperately. She began running again with a new strength, powered by fear and desperation. Not her son. She wouldn’t lose her son.

“What do you care how I escaped?” Harry said.“Voldemort was after your time.”

“Voldemort is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter. Imagine,” the young man hissed, “I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother’s side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born? No. So I fashioned for myself a new name, a name I knew wizards would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!”

Lily reached the Chamber door and pushed it open. She saw Harry, kneeling beside Ginny, and a young man standing over them, wand in his hand. A huge statue of Salazar Slytherin loomed over them. Lily ran towards Harry and Ginny. She was prepared to throw herself between any curse this young man threw at her son, Voldemort or no.

Harry said something so quietly she couldn’t hear. She ran faster. The young man looked angry. Oh, Merlin, she had to just get between them.

And then, the young man shouted, “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!”

“He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry shouted back.

The young man drew back the wand in his hand. Lily dove in-between him and Harry and grabbed her son around his neck. But there was no curse. Nothing happened.

Instead, an eerie harmony filled the chamber. It was an ethereal sound that sent a strange sensation down Lily’s spine, like a chill, but it wasn’t cold. She felt the song beat in her chest, and she looked up for the source of the music.

Atop one of the pillars, beside the huge statue of Salazar Slytherin, a golden flame appeared. In it sat a beautiful phoenix.

“Fawkes,” she breathed.

Harry squeezed her tight. “Mum, why are you here? What is Fawkes doing….”

The bird swooped down, dropped a piece of brown leather into Harry’s lap, and alighted on his shoulder. It nuzzled Harry’s cheek and regarded Lily with a suspicious beady black eye.

Harry picked up the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped. “The… Sorting Hat?”

It really was. The patched, frayed, and dirty Sorting Hat, straight from Dumbledore’s office.

“This is what Dumbledore sends his defender?” the Voldemort boy laughed. “A songbird and an old hat! And a witch who seems to know nothing of a protective spell.”

Lily got to her feet, ready to duel.

But the boy laughed again, and a shiver went down her spine that flooded out any warmth the phoenix had put in her. He truly was Lord Voldemort, but so much younger than when she had seen him.

“Stand aside, Witch,” he said. “My business is with Harry Potter.”

“Your business is with me,” she growled.

His upper lip curled back. “ _Hom_ \--”

“ _Protego!_ ” she shouted over his curse, and it deflected off of her silver shield. “ _Reducto!_ ”

He deflected it wordlessly by flicking the wand upwards. The explosion hit a pillar, which crumbled at Salazar Slytherin’s feet.

He brought his wand back down with a wordless spell that sliced through her chest. She saw no blood but she felt like she’d been run through with a sword. She fell beside Harry and managed to support herself on one knee. She opened her mouth to curse him again, but he shouted, “ _Silencio_!” and no sound came out of her mouth.

Lily curled her upper lip back and threw an _Expluso_ at him anyway. He seemed startled by the spell, but whatever it was that made him fuzzy around the edges made him impervious to the force of the spell. She tried to think of a spell that affected a non-corporeal form, but they were dark ones, far darker than she was used to using.

She started the motion for _Incendia Incendicum_ , but Voldemort threw a silent _Expelliarmus_ at her. She had been unprepared, and the wand flew out of her hand. He caught it neatly, and used his wand to move her aside.

“To business, Harry,” Voldemort said. “Twice--in your past, in my future--we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? The longer you talk, the longer you stay alive.”

“I don’t know why you lost your powers when you attacked me,” Harry snarled fiercely, as he helped Lily stand, “but I know why you couldn’t kill me. Because my Muggle-born mother stood between you and me. Because my family fought you when you came for me. Because I’m loved, beyond blood or heritage. Where I come from doesn’t matter. What matters is that there are people who love me, and their love protects me.”

Voldemort’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “I see. What an old counter-charm.” His eyes flicked between Lily and Harry. “But that means then that you are only a boy, a boy who can be killed. And there is nothing truly special about you.”

Voldemort walked towards the statue of Slytherin and began speaking in Parseltongue. Lily’s body went cold. It unnerved her every time she overheard Harry doing it to a garden snake in the backyard, but this was so much worse.

“Mum, he’s summoning the basilisk.” Harry pushed her towards the door. “Close your eyes! Run for the door.”

She wanted to tell him she couldn’t leave him and Ginny, but she still couldn’t speak. And she knew, as the statue of Slytherin opened its mouth, that the basilisk was coming. She quickly tried to mime waving a wand. She was sure Harry’d learned _Finite Incantatem_ in her class, and he should’ve learned it in Charms class as well.

“Tom Riddle has my wand,” he said quickly. “Just go, Mum.”

Lily grabbed Harry’s hand and together they ran from the basilisk with their eyes closed. Lily felt Fawkes’s wings flutter past her cheek. She wondered where the phoenix was going. She hoped it was for help, or to get Ginny out of here. Could Ginny even be moved? Hadn’t Voldemort said something about a diary sucking her soul?

Now that they were running without looking, she couldn’t even be sure they were running towards the door. She kept one hand brushing against the wall on her left to be sure they were still close to it.

Voldemort spoke in Parseltongue again. Harry pushed her to go faster, but she tripped. Her chin hit the concrete floor and she tasted blood in her mouth. Harry pulled her to her feet and they kept going. There was no time to check her injury. She heard a hissing, different from the Parseltongue, and a spitting noise. Something knocked her and Harry back against the wall. She could barely breathe.

“Are you okay?” she tried to say, and felt his arm quickly and gently for broken bones.

“I’m fine. Mum, open your eyes. Look, really.”

Lily did, and saw the twenty-foot long basilisk doing battle with Fawkes the phoenix. The snake’s eyes had been scratched out and blood was dripping the floor. It was snapping wildly at the bird with its fangs, and flicking its tongue out desperately.

“Leave the bird!” Voldemort shouted. “Get the boy!” He said something in Parseltongue, and Lily assumed he was repeating his command.

Lily grabbed Harry’s hand and started for the door, but he pulled away and dove under the basilisk’s tail for the Sorting Hat.

“Harry!” she shouted at him, but no sound came out of her mouth. She wished she could scream, anything.

Harry crammed the old hat down on his head and pressed himself flat on the floor as the basilisk swiped its tail at him again.

Lily could only watch, wandless and voiceless, as Harry pulled the hat off of his head and grabbed a silver sword encrusted with rubies from inside. He held it in his hands and looked at her.

“Go,” he mouthed, and she shook her head. She would never leave her son, even if it killed her.

The snake snapped at Harry and he dove out of the way. It's head rammed into the wall instead. It lunged again at Harry and this time its tongue grazed his side. Lily gasped and ran towards Harry, but the snake was faster. Its mouth came right down on top of Harry, and Harry thrust the sword up through its jaw.

“Harry!” this time her scream broke through to Silencio spell with a thunderous crack. She could see the wound on his arm where the fang of the basilisk had pierced his arm. This--this was why she tried to keep him from fighting. He was her only son. She couldn’t lose him.

As Harry pulled out of the basilisk’s mouth, the fang came with him, still sticking out of his arm.

She caught him as he fell, whispering desperately that he would be alright, that she loved him. Fawkes fluttered down and settled on her shoulder. She could see tears in the bird’s eyes and sobbed even harder.

“Foolish Muggle-woman,” Voldemort snapped. “Harry Potter is dead. Even Dumbledore’s old bird knows it. I’m going to sit here and watch the life slowly leave you, while your filthy mudblood mother watches, then I’ll kill her as I kill little Ginny Weasley.”

Lily would have done anything for her wand, anything except give up Harry. She held him tighter and cried harder. 

Then Fawkes left and Harry moved in her arms. She saw that his wound had closed. He saw it too, and the two of them started laughing, even though she still couldn’t stop crying.

“What?” Voldemort shouted. “Phoenix tears--” He slashed at the bird with his wand. “How dare you--”

The bird ducked under the spell and grabbed something off the ground. It dropped it in front of Harry and Lily--the diary.

Lily didn’t know what the diary meant, but Harry didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the basilisk fang that had been in his arm and stabbed the diary.

Lily gasped as ink shot out of the diary like blood from a pumping heart. Voldemort screamed. A hole burned in his chest for every time Harry stabbed the diary. He fell to the ground, writhing and screaming, until the stabs from the basilisk fang burned up everything he was. He was only an echo of an image. And then he was nothing at all.

It was so violent, Lily nearly threw up all over the bloody diary. But that would have been even worse.

Harry picked up his wand and Lily’s. He handed it to her but she took no notice of it. Instead, she threw her arms around Harry and only said, “I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mum,” he said.

She squeezed him for a moment longer, then pulled away to wipe the tears out of her eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”

Harry grabbed the sword, the diary, and the Sorting Hat. Lily helped Ginny to her feet. Ginny saw Harry and immediately started crying, huge loud gasping sobs. She threw her arms around his neck.

“Harry I’m so sorry--I tried to tell you--I s-swear I didn’t mean to--R-Riddle he was just s-so--oh, H-Harry I’m sorry.”

“It’s over,” Harry said, and handed her the diary. “Riddle and the basilisk.” He even gave her the sword to carry. “Come on. Let’s go back.”

“I’ll be expelled,” Ginny wailed as they started towards the exit of the Chamber. She clutched the sword against her chest like a pillow and sobbed into her hands.

“You won’t be expelled,” Lily said encouragingly. “You’ll be alright.”

Harry led them out of the Chamber and through the tunnels while Lily helped support a sobbing Ginny. She would’ve carried Ginny, but her ribs still ached from where the tail of the basilisk had hit her. She would not be surprised if Madam Pomfrey found a few broken bones.

They reached the cave-in and Lily helped Ginny crawl through to Ron.

“Ginny!” he shouted and squeezed her tighter than she held the sword. “You’re alive! I don’t believe it! What happened? How--a sword--Where did that bird come from?”

“He’s Dumbledore’s,” Harry said as Lily pulled herself through the hole.

“Were you able to find a way out?” she asked Ron.

Ron shook his head. “The pipe back up is steep and slippery.”

Fawkes circled overhead, tail feathers brushing Harry’s shoulders. He chirped impatiently at them.

“Your bird wants something, Harry,” Ron said.

Harry grabbed onto Fawkes’ feet, and the phoenix gently tugged at him. “He’s going to carry us out,” Harry said. “Mom, you hold onto me, and hold Ginny with your other hand. Ron, you hold Ginny’s hand and my Mom’s robes, and let Lockhart hold onto you, okay? Fawkes will be able to carry us.”

Ron looked doubtful, but he did as Harry suggested. Lily did, too. When had her boy become so grown-up?

Fawkes lifted them all into the air like they weighed nothing, and carried them out into the bathroom. It was definitely the weirdest flight Lily had ever had. She had no intentions of repeating a phoenix flight with Gilderoy Lockhart hanging onto her robes. She found she much preferred a broom.

Once they were back on solid ground, Lily quickly took charge. With one hand on Harry and the other on Ginny, she led them all to Professor McGonagall’s office. Fawkes floated just ahead of her, feathers casting a golden glow in the hallway. It made a pleasant light for them to follow.

They arrived at Minerva’s office, and Lily pushed in the door, where she found Mr. and Mrs. Weasley waiting with James.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close to done! And I've solved probably 90% of the Prisoner of Azkaban, so it shouldn't be too long of a wait between books like I was expecting.
> 
> As always, comments and headcanons are greatly appreciated <3


	18. Dobby's Reward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry explains everything. Lily does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by ageofzero

There was a moment of silence while Harry stood awkwardly in the door with Ron, Ginny, Lockhart, and his mother. All of them were covered in slime and muck, and they probably smelled like a moldy dungeon. Harry half-expected Professor McGonagall to send him away to clean up.

Then he saw Professor Dumbledore leaning against the mantle of the fireplace beside his father and his heart soared. Dumbledore was back and his father was here. Everything would be fine from here on out.

Mrs. Weasley sobbed loudly, “Ginny!” and she rushed over to hug her only daughter. Ginny started crying all over again, and Mrs. Weasley started crying all over her.

James ran to Lily and Harry and Harry realized suddenly he was covered in blood. Some of it his, some of it the basilisk’s, and a lot of it the diary’s; though he suspected the diary was red ink, it sure looked a lot like blood. Lily had a fair bit of it on her, too.

“Are you alright?” James asked quickly, looking over both of them for injuries.

Harry nodded and hugged his father. He had no room to be bitter with his parents or Sirius or Remus about withholding the information about the basilisk from him. He was only glad that he and Ginny were alive, and that his parents were there.

Lily hugged them both, and Harry had never been more content to be squished between his parents, until Lily started to cry.

Harry pulled himself out of the hug and watched his mother sob into his dad’s shoulder. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable, and a piece of his bitterness returned. This wasn’t his fault, and he felt prepared to defend his actions and even Ginny’s, because this wasn’t her fault, either. This was all the work of Tom Riddle.

But he wasn’t out of a hug for very long. Mrs. Weasley swept him and Ron up into a single hug, and thanked them both for saving Ginny. Then she let them go and managed to pull Lily out of James’s arms, and the two mothers were crying into each other’s shoulders. Harry didn’t understand why there were so many tears. Everyone was safe. Then he saw even his father wipe his eyes beneath his glasses and Harry thought maybe he also wanted to cry, though he couldn't say why.

“I think,” Professor McGonagall began slowly, “we would all like to know what happened.”

Harry put the Sorting Hat and the diary down on the desk. Ginny handed him the sword, and he added that to the pile of things. Fawkes landed on his shoulder and ruffled his feathers in a proud and supportive sort of gesture. Harry began with when he found the diary, and the story Tom Riddle had shown him. Then he told them how he and Ron had gone to Hagrid for answers, and Hagrid had given them a clue about the spiders.

Lily’s lips pressed together in a very thin line. She looked like she had a lot of angry things to say, but Harry found he was less intimidated by her anger when she was covered in dirt and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry told them about Aragog, and the clue Aragog had given them about Moaning Myrtle. He left out the harrowing escape from the spider’s den, since present company had already heard about it. Then he told them how they’d discovered the monster was a basilisk, and that he and Ron had meant to tell the teachers everything they knew.

He shifted uncomfortably and fidgeted with his wand. “We sort of got caught up in rescuing Ginny, I think,” Harry said. He wasn’t sure he could explain how angry he’d been, and how he’d blamed his mother for Ginny being taken. It was easier to be forgiving now that everyone was safe, but there was still a residual sting that made him afraid to speak about his hurt out-loud.

He told them about Lockhart, and Lockhart looked surprised to hear his own story. Then Harry told them about the Chamber, and Tom Riddle, who had revealed himself to be Voldemort, and how the diary had possessed Ginny.

Mrs. Weasley looked shocked that Voldemort had possessed her daughter, and she clung tightly to Ginny, as if holding her closer would keep her safer.

Harry handed the diary to Dumbledore, who inspected it closely. “Brilliant,” he murmured quietly. “Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student to ever attend Hogwarts.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at Dumbledore furiously. She demanded to know how You-Know-Who could’ve gotten to her daughter, and Dumbledore explained everything that Tom had told Harry--that Tom had attended Hogwarts many years ago, that he’d left a piece of himself in the diary.

Ginny sobbed out that she’d been writing in the diary all year, that she didn’t know it had belonged to You-Know-Who.

“I think,” Professor Dumbledore said, “Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away. Bed rest and perhaps a large steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up.” He smiled gently at Ginny. “Madam Pomfrey should be nearly ready to administer the Mandrake juice. I imagine our friends will be waking up any moment.”

“Hermione’s okay!” Ron said with a wide smile.

“So, Ginny, you’ll find there’s been no lasting harm,” Dumbledore said.

Ginny cried a little more, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley led her to the hospital wing.

Harry felt a new rush of relief. Everything really would be fine. Hermione, Collin, Justin, and Penelope would all be awake soon. Ginny was safe. The monster in the Chamber of Secrets was dead for good. His parents were safe. Everything was fine.

“Gilderoy,” Dumbledore said. “I think you’d better follow them and let Madam Pomfrey have a look at you.”

Gilderoy Lockhart bobbed his head, and skipped after the Weasleys.

“And, you know, Minerva,” Professor Dumbledore said, “I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go alert the kitchens?”

“Of course,” Professor McGonagall answered. She paused at the doorway, nodded encouragingly to James and Lily, then left for the kitchens.

As soon as McGonagall was gone, Lily sank into her now vacated chair. James kept his hand on her shoulder, and she held onto it like she was afraid he’d disappear if she let go.

“Harry, Ron,” Dumbledore began, “I heard from Professor McGonagall that you have been getting into quite a bit of trouble while I was gone. Today would be, then, the third time you’ve sneaked away from your teachers while under curfew?”

Harry and Ron nodded glumly.

“It seems the lesson to be learned here is trust. I think all of us can agree from now on, we should trust each other with the things we learn, especially when it concerns the safety of the ones we love, yes? So on that happy note, I think Special Awards of Merit are in order for you two boys, and I think… two hundred points to Gryffindor, each. That seems reasonable.”

Harry felt stunned. Two hundred…? That was more than a Snitch was worth.

“Th-thank you,” he stammered, and Ron did the same.

“Now, Ron, why don’t you join your family? I’d like a moment with Harry, if you don’t mind.”

Ron glanced at Harry and Dumbledore curiously, but nodded and did as he had been told. “I’ll tell Hermione you’ll be there soon,” he said to Harry, and headed off to the infirmary.

“First of all, Harry, I wanted to thank you. You must’ve shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you.” The phoenix left Harry's shoulder and rested on the mantle beside Dumbledore.

Harry went to stand by his parents. Part of him wanted to sit in his mother’s lap. It hadn’t been too long ago that he could do that. But instead he let her wrap her arm around his shoulder.

Dumbledore stroked Fawkes’ feathers gently. “And you met Tom Riddle in that diary. I can imagine he was most interested to meet you.”

Harry looked between his parents for a minute, then said, “Riddle said that I’m like him. Strange likenesses….”

Dumbledore smiled gently. “Did he now. And what do you think, Harry?”

“I’m not like him,” Harry said quickly. “I’m--I’m in Gryffindor--” he looked helplessly up at his dad, and then at his mum.

“He won’t be upset,” Lily whispered with a faint smile. “Not really, anyway.”

Harry took a deep breath. “The Sorting Hat told me I’d--My first year, it said I would have done well in Slytherin. Everyone thought I was Slytherin’s heir for a while because I can speak Parseltongue. Maybe I’m supposed to be….”

“You can speak Parseltongue,” Dumbledore said, “because Lord Voldemort--who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin--can speak Parseltongue. Unless I’m much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you when he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure….”

Lily’s arm tightened around his shoulder.

“Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?”

“It certainly seems so.”

“So… I should be in Slytherin.” Harry looked down at the floor.

“True, you have many qualities that Salazar Slytherin prized in his students. You can speak Parseltongue, you’re incredibly resourceful, full of determination, and share a certain disregard for the rules,” he said with a small smile. “Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. Do you know why that was?”

“Only because I asked not to be in Slytherin.”

“Exactly. Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It’s our choices, Harry, more than our abilities, that show what we truly are.” Dumbledore gestured to the sword on the table. “This was the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled it from the Sorting Hat. If you still doubt where you belong, this should put those doubts to rest.”

Harry stared at the sword for a moment, then looked up at his father, who was grinning proudly. Only his mother still looked anxious. He wondered if she was still thinking about the basilisk in the Chamber. It had nearly killed them both, because he hadn’t trusted her to help.

“For now, I think all of you need food, a bath, and sleep.” He picked up a letter from his desk. “And I need to write to Azkaban to see to it our gamekeeper is returned.”

Lily and James rose, but they didn’t make it very far. The door burst open and Lucius Malfoy strode in.

“Good Evening, Lucius,” Dumbledore said with a small smile.

Harry looked down and saw Dobby still trailing after Malfoy. It seemed he’d left in a rush--half-polished shoes, disheveled hair, and an unusual crease in the cloak of his robe.

“So,” Lucius said, ignoring Harry and his parents, “you’ve come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore was still smiling. Harry thought this might be more exciting to watch than Sirius punching Lucius in the face. “Yes, it seemed they heard that Arthur Weasley’s daughter had been killed, so they asked me to come back to fix it. Strange, that several of them were under the impression you’d curse their families if they didn’t agree to suspend me in the first place.”

“So,” Malfoy said, completely ignoring Dumbledore’s accusation, “did you stop the attacks?”

“Yes, we did indeed. It seems that Lord Voldemort was able to act through somebody else, by means of this diary. A good thing we found this diary, too. Otherwise it might’ve seemed as if Ginny acted of her own free will, and we never would’ve been able to prove that she was being manipulated by Lord Voldemort.”

Lucius Malfoy looked like he was torn between fury and disgust. Dobby was pointing at the diary and at Lucius Malfoy. Harry stared at him for a moment before figuring out the connection.

“Don’t you think, Mr. Malfoy,” Harry started, “that it’s odd that Ginny got a hold of the diary?” His mother gave him a warning look, but Harry didn’t care.

“I can’t imagine where a stupid little girl would pick up something like that,” he said with a curl of his upper lip.

“Because you gave it to her. In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn’t you?”

“Prove it,” Malfoy snarled, and Harry felt both his parents pull him closer, like they were afraid of what Malfoy might do.

“No one will be able to do that,” Dumbledore said quickly. He smiled at Harry. “Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. But I would advise you, Lucius, not to continue giving away any more of Lord Voldemort’s old school things.”

Lucius Malfoy hesitated for a moment. Harry wondered if he was going to curse Dumbledore. But then he turned around and said, “We’re going, Dobby!” He pulled the door of Dumbledore’s office open again and kicked Dobby out through it.

Harry frowned and grabbed the diary. “May I please give the diary back to Mr. Malfoy?”

Dumbledore smiled. “If you wish. But don’t forget the feast.”

As soon as Harry was outside the door, he slipped off his gross, slimy sock, and tucked into into the diary.

\--- --- ---

Lily wanted a warm bath. She wanted to eat five helpings of pudding and wash it down with a bottle of firewhiskey. She wanted to lie in bed with James and Harry and never leave. She just wanted to feel like her family was safe again.

Dumbledore drummed his fingers against the fireplace mantle thoughtfully. He looked less like the Headmaster she’d known in her school days, less like the Headmaster who had been so kind to Harry all these years, and more like the man who had come to them and told them they were being hunted by Lord Voldemort. He looked more like the man who had fervently kept them safe for a year and a half until they were betrayed by someone they trusted. He was a man she trusted just as dearly as the charming school teacher, but he was a man she also feared.

“Do you think,” James said, his voice a little hoarse, “we should tell Harry about the prophecy then?”

Lily wondered what James thought of the prophecy now. Voldemort was clearly not gone. They may have wanted to believe that their son had triumphed, but the prophecy was not fulfilled. Their son was the only one who could ultimately kill Voldemort, and if he failed, he would die. He’d faced Voldemort twice and lived, but she still felt terrified.

“We can’t,” she said, her voice nearly breaking. “We can’t tell him that. He’s only twelve. He doesn’t--he can’t.” She looked to Dumbledore for support. Even though he had just told Harry how important it was to have trust and communication, she felt like if they told Harry that he would someday have to face Voldemort, that saving their world was up to him, it would take all the joy out of his life. It was hard enough for her to keep the prophecy from taking all the joy out of her life. She couldn’t do that to her only son.

“I think,” the old wizard began slowly, “that Harry has enough things to worry about without having a great destiny thrust upon his shoulders. However, I also think that Harry has been through enough that if anyone at his age can bear that weight, he could. You are his parents, and it is your decision.”

“But which decision is right?” James asked. “Is it right to keep lying to him? To keep avoiding his questions about his scar and the war? His nightmares… they’re part of his connection to You-Know-Who, aren’t they?”

Lily had to hold down another sob. So James really had been thinking about all the terrible things she’d been thinking about. Even though he’d been encouraging in his letters, insisting everything was alright, he’d been worrying too. It was both comforting and heartbreaking.

“We can’t tell him,” Lily repeated. “I just want him to grow up happy and loved.” She tightened her hands around the armrests of the chair. “That’s more important to me than anything.”

James ran his hand through her hair, combing out some of the muck and dried blood. “I agree,” he said quietly. “I think that’s the best thing we can do for Harry.”

“Then we will wait until Harry turns seventeen, as originally agreed,” Dumbledore said. “For now, I think the students would like to see their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher safe and sound. I imagine you’re the best teacher they’ve had in many years, and now you can add defeating a basilisk to your resume.”

“It was all Harry,” Lily said weakly. “I’m afraid I stood there and cried for a lot of it.”

“I bet you were very brave,” James said, and kissed her forehead. Then he made a disgusted face. “You really need a bath.”

She laughed, the first laugh in what felt like years. Truthfully, it had been at least a week.

She and James got up and started for The Great Hall. At the bottom of the stairs, they heard a high-pitched voice say loudly, “Dobby is free!”

As they rounded the corner, they saw Lucius Malfoy lunge towards their son. “You’ve lost me my servant, boy!”

Lily gasped and James drew his wand, but before they could do anything, there was a loud bang and Malfoy fell backwards. He tumbled down another flight of stairs and landed in a crumpled heap. Quickly, he stood and drew his wand, but Dobby got between him and Harry.

“You will not harm Harry Potter! Go now!” Dobby said and pointed a finger at Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius hesitated, then with a flick of his cape, left.

“Harry Potter freed Dobby!” the house-elf cried shrilly.

“It was the least I could do, Dobby,” Harry said. “Just promise me never to try and save my life again.” Harry laughed, and the house-elf laughed with him.

Lily almost sank to her knees. She might have if James hadn’t caught her arm. Three times in one week she’d watched her son be attacked. She couldn’t do this. She loved Harry and wanted to protect him, but without James, she didn’t have the strength. 

She and James had been each other’s support for almost fifteen years. They’d raised Harry together, and now, even if they couldn’t trust him with with the knowledge of the prophecy, they had to trust him to be safe at Hogwarts. After this week, that sounded like a terrible idea. She would just have to make sure that whoever Dumbledore hired to replace her would be someone trustworthy. Someone who could keep Harry safe.

\--- --- ---

The feast was thrilling, and lasted for the entire evening. Harry was so happy to be with Hermione again, he didn’t even care that he was still covered in slime and dirt. It actually was kind of cool the way everyone looked at him, especially after Dumbledore announced to the school what he and Ron had done, and how many points they’d won for Gryffindor.

Justin Finch-Fletchley apologized to him. Colin asked for several pictures and Harry didn’t even complain. Hagrid arrived at half-past three and he, Ron, and Hermione all gave him a huge hug.

Lily was nearly as popular as Harry and Ron, at least with the sixth and seventh years. Even those fourth and fifth years who had been loyal to Lockhart hung around hers and James’s table. James impressed them with a story about him and Sirius escaping Death Eaters and Muggle police on a motorcycle. It awed the children who had wizards for parents and highly amused the handful of Muggle-born students.

The sun rose and the only thing Harry was disappointed about was that there would be no rematch for the Quidditch cup until next year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theeeerrreeeeeee it is. Two books done. This is the way I have chosen to spend my free time. I hope you guys enjoyed it. I am hard at work on Prisoner of Azkaban, so expect that to get underway very soon.
> 
> Now that you've reached the end, if you have any interest in rereading Regulus's letters, they are compiled in chronological order here: [Regulus's notebook](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4424159)
> 
> As always, comments, critiques, and headcanons appreciated! <3 you are all the best.


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